Red
by Kennie Gajos
Summary: Willow has mutant powers that she has carefully concealed from the Scooby gang. When a life or death situation forces her hand, she is outed as a mutant and despite the best efforts of her friends to protect her, she is driven out of Sunnydale.*UPDATED!*
1. 1997: A Mutant Finds Her Powers

I own no Buffy characters and no Marvel characters.  Don't bother suing, I can't afford it but I know how to fight back.

Anyone who wants to post this up on another site is welcome to do so, providing they ask me first.

The only stuff I know about the X-Men comes from watching the movie and playing Spiderman (the guy really doesn't like Wolverine does he?) so bear with me!

Anyway, it's late at night, I'm tired, but my muse will go on holiday if I keep ignoring her and as I'm attempting to write a novel that would most definitely be not of the good.  Later guys!  J

RED 

1997

Willow slumped to the floor of the basement.  Beside her, Giles and Xander rammed the basement door in a futile attempt to open it.  Willow's head lolled to one side as the gas leaking into the room began to affect her more and more.

I'm going to die, she thought, I'm going to die and I haven't finished my physics homework.

Willow noticed the air in front of her shimmering with silver light.  It was hard to describe, but Willow would later say that it was almost as though she was seeing the basement through a crystal.  That although the dimensions of the room remained the same, the colours of the room had faded slightly and shone as though someone was holding a light behind them.  As well as this, the air in front of her danced in a shimmering silver light.  Willow flopped a hand in front of her face and watched the silver flow and eddy.  She giggled quietly to herself as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Some time later – Willow could only guess at how long it had been – she became aware of strong male arms carrying her and a change in the air.  Drowsily, she opened her eyes and looked around her.

On the plus side, she was out of the basement, and so were Giles and Xander.  On the down side, she could still see two images of the same thing.  And she had no idea who was carrying her.  She closed her eyes again, not wanting to face a reality where she was colour-blind.

Gently, whoever it was set her on her feet and helped to support her, holding her close to his chest.  From a far away place she heard Xander speak and then the mystery man's chest rumbled as he spoke.

"I'm up, mom."  Willow said as she opened her eyes a little bit and pushed slightly away from the person who had saved them.  

In doing so, she noticed that he was neither cold nor hot to the touch, in fact he was lukewarm and the only thing method she had of realising that he was there when she came into contact with him was the actual tactile experience of touching and being touched by him.  Also, he wasn't breathing.  _This must be Angel_ she realised.

The men of the group talked some more and then Willow was led away from the basement while Angel went back into the basement to turn the gas off.  She still didn't trust her eyesight enough to open her eyes fully so she feigned semi-consciousness until they were closer to the library.  Where, to her intense relief, she discovered that her eyesight was back to normal.


	2. 1998: An Assumption

1998

Over time, Willow had grown accustomed to her 'second sight' that came and went.  Gradually she realised that the silvery sheen that lay over everything like oil on a wet road was actually composed of a thousand different shades.  It was at its most bright when it lay over heavy, solid items and at its most dull when it covered something so light that it couldn't be seen; the air.  Above all else, it was transparent.

Willow assumed that it was a residue of the oxygen starvation that her brain had suffered when she had been locked in the boiler room.  And since she hated medical exams with a vengeance that would have surprised anyone who knew her, she had simply neglected to mention it to her doctor on the rare occasions she had seen him since.

_Besides_, she reasoned, _what would her explanation for being locked in the boiler room of her High School with a male student and member of the faculty be?  No matter what the excuse, it would still look bad.  And the sight thingy really wasn't so awful; she barely noticed it when it happened now._

Deliberately shaking off her thoughts, Willow turned her attention to her computer.  She knew why her thoughts were straying – she was bored.  She'd finished her homework and her extra credit assignments and she'd already hacked into the coroners office to see who was going to rise tonight and if there were any signs of a new Big Bad to be researched.  There weren't.

Willow brightened as she came up with an idea.  Sure, Buffy and Xander would mock her for it, but it always helped to be prepared and it wasn't like she had anything better to do.

Clicking onto the Google search page, Willow typed in 'demons' and hit enter.

Google wasn't a particularly good way to search unless you wanted something incredibly specific and didn't mind trawling through useless information for hours on end in order to get it.  For example, 'demons' brought up 1,210,000 web pages containing the word demons.  But tonight, Willow wasn't looking for anything other than a way to spend her time.

Forty-seven pages later, Willow stumbled into an anti-mutant website claiming that mutants were demons and deserved to die.  Willow's lip curled in disgust.  Why couldn't people understand that mutants were neither good nor evil?  That they were simply _human_.  With all that that entailed… including moral ambiguity.

"Willow?  Aren't you in bed yet?"  Willow heard her mother call from downstairs.  She checked her watch and realised that it was later than she had thought.

"Uh!  I'm just getting ready mom!"  Willow called back as she exited Internet Explorer.  She quickly changed into a nightgown and began brushing her hair.  She was just about to get into bed when there was a knock at her balcony door.

Frowning, Willow crossed to the door and pushed the blinds apart to see who it was.

"Oh!"  She cried as she recognised the person standing there.  She unlocked the door and opened it.  "Angel!  What are you doing here?"

Angel looked nervous.  "I wanted to talk to you."  He said quietly.

Willow glanced around her room.  _Why would Angel want to talk to **me**?_  She opened the door further and made a 'come in' gesture with her arm.  Angel remained outside.  "Well?"  She asked, confused.

"I can't."  Angel explained.  "I can't come in unless you invite me."

Willow blinked as her 'second sight' decided to make an appearance and everything took on a slightly silvery light.  "Oh!"  She said nervously.  "Well, okay, I invite you. To come in."

She turned as Angel walked into the room and to her horror, she spotted her bra, lying in plain sight on her bed.  Quickly, she rushed over and grabbed it, stashing underneath the other clothes that were also lying on the bed, waiting for her to take them to the laundry basket.

"I-if this is a bad time, I…" Angel said, with a slight gesture towards the door.

"No!"  Willow reassured him.  "I just… I'm not supposed to have boys in my room."  She confided.

Angel smiled slightly.  "I promise to behave myself."

"Okay!"  Willow said, still nervous.  "Good."  _Of course you'd behave yourself, it's not as if anyone would ever want to be in my room so they could **not** behave themself after all_.  Willow thought matter-of-factly.

"I guess I need help."  Angel said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Help?  You mean like on homework?"  _Idiot.  Angel doesn't go to school!_  Willow wanted to kick herself, but she figured Angel would notice if she did. "No, 'cause you're old and you already know stuff."  _Why would Angel need my help anyway?_

"I want you to track someone down.  On the 'Net."  Angel told Willow with a glance at her laptop.

Willow smiled happily.  "Oh!  Great!  I'm so the 'Net girl."  She crossed to her desk and sat down.

Angel stood behind her, looking over her shoulder as she opened Internet Explorer. Willow could feel his presence behind her and she almost jumped out of her skin when he placed his hand on the back of her chair where it brushed her nape.

"I just wanna find everything I can."  Angel said, leaning a little of his weight onto the back of Willow's chair.  "Records, affiliates, I'm not even sure what I'm looking for yet."

Willow quickly typed in the address for Google.  It seemed that this time at least, she'd have something specific to search for.  "Good."  She said distractedly.  "What's the name?"

"Billy Fordham."

Willow froze.  "Uh, Angel?"  She said, turning to face him.  "If I say something you really don't wanna hear, do you promise not to bite me?"

"You're gonna tell me that I'm jealous."  Angel guessed.

Willow half-smiled at him.  "Well, you do sometimes get that way."  She said gently, remembering all the times he'd gotten jealous of Xander.

"You know, I never used to."  Angel told her, sinking down to sit on Willow's bed.  "Things used to be pretty simple."  Willow turned back to her laptop and started searching, while she listened to Angel.  "A hundred years, just hanging out, feelin' guilty… I really honed my brooding skills.  Then she comes along."  Angel monologued as Willow sicced an automated hacking program onto her school mainframe and turned back to Angel.  Angel looked Willow in the eye.  "Yeah, I get jealous."  He said simply.  "But I know people.  And my gut tells me this is a wrong guy."

Willow smiled slightly.  _Wow.  I wish a guy loved **me** the way Angel loves Buffy.  She really doesn't know how lucky she is._  She nodded to herself as she came to the decision to help the brooding vampire.  "Okay."  She told him and turned back to her laptop.  "But if there isn't anything weird…" She warned as she searched the student database to find some leads on Ford.  "Hey, that's weird."  Willow said, frowning as she double-checked the database to make sure.

Angel stood up and leant over Willow to get a better look at the screen.  "What?"  He asked.

"I just checked the school records, and he's not in them.  I mean, usually they transfer your grades and stuff. But he's not even registered."  Willow explained.

Angel frowned and stepped back a bit.  "He said he was in school with you guys, right?"

Willow instigated a general search on the 'Net for anything on Billy Fordham and a specific search for Hemery's website.  From there she could hack into their mainframe and check for Ford's transcripts.  "Let me just see if I can…"

"Willow?"  Willow's mother called again.  "Are you still up?"

Willow stood up, panicking slightly in case her mother decided to come up and check on her.  Not that she had in years, but still, you never knew with parents.  "Ack!" She managed to burble to Angel as she gently pushed him towards the door.  "Go!"  Angel silently opened the balcony door, as Willow called downstairs to her mother.  "I-I'm just going to bed now mom!"

Angel stepped outside and turned back to look at Willow where she stood, holding the door in preparation for shutting it.

"Come by tomorrow at sunset."  She told him.  "I'll keep looking."

Angel hesitated before asking her one more favour.  "Don't tell Buffy what we're doing, alright?"

Willow's eyes opened wide as she contemplated what he was asking of her.  "You want me to lie to her?  It's Buffy!"

"Just don't bring it up until we know what's what."

"Okay."  Willow conceded.  "I-it's probably nothing."  She said in an attempt to make herself feel better about lying to Buffy.  The school probably hasn't got around to updating their records yet, that's all.

Angel smiled gently at her.  "That'd be nice."  He said in a warm, slightly amused tone, obviously aware of what she was trying to do.

He turned away as Willow closed and locked the door behind him.  It was then that she noticed that the silvery light that she saw lying over Angel didn't seem as, as… _alive_ as the silvery light that lay over everything else.


	3. 1999: A Realisation

1999

Willow lay on her stomach in the schoolyard, concentrating intensely on a pencil that spun lazily in front of her face. Buffy glanced at the pencil from where she lay next to Willow, doing sit-ups.

"The Watcher's Council shrink is heavily into tests." Buffy told Willow as she mentally counted the number of sit-ups she'd done so far. "He's got tests for everything. T.A.T.'s, Rorschach, associative logic..." Buffy finished sit-ups on five hundred and decided to take a break. "They even have that test to see if you're crazy that asks if you hear voices or have ever wanted to be a florist."

Willow grinned. "Oh, I used to... Wait. Florist means crazy right? I never wanted to do that."

Buffy nodded at the pencil. "Neat." She commented.

"Thanks." Willow said, turning to look at Buffy instead of the pencil. _It was strange how quickly she'd gotten used to seeing Silvery Buffy all the time instead of normal-colour Buffy._ Willow mused. "It's all about the emotional control." Willow explained, focussing back on the pencil. "Plus, obviously, magic. You wanna go to the espresso pump? Get sugared up on mochas?" She asked.

Buffy grimaced and began to pack her stuff into her school bag. "Pass." She said. "I'm gonna hit the pool, do some laps."

"And how come all the sudden callisthenics?" Willow asked, frowning slightly. "Aren't you sort of naturally buff… Buff?" Willow contemplated what she had just said and grinned. "Buff, buff!"

"Well, they've really got us running around on the physical side, too." Buffy explained. "A lot of precision training and reflex evaluation, and I just wanna do…"

"…Better than Faith?" Willow asked when it looked as though Buffy wasn't going to finish the sentence by herself.

Buffy looked ashamed. "So very shallow."

Willow shook her head. "Competition is natural and healthy." She supported her friend. "And you'll definitely ace her on the psyche tests. Just don't mark the box that says 'I sometimes like to kill people'!"

Buffy frowned. _Sometimes Will can be so judging. Would she still feel the same way if it was me? _"Look, I know Faith isn't exactly on the cover of Sanity Fair, but she's had it rough." Buffy said in defence of her fellow Slayer. "Different circumstances, that could be me."

"No way." Willow said quietly.

"We can't control the way we grow up!" Buffy said, getting mad that Willow didn't understand what she was trying to say now.

_How can I explain this so Buffy understands what I'm saying and doesn't get madder at me?_ Willow thought. "No." She said, carefully choosing her words. "You're you. She's her. Some people just don't have that in them."

Buffy relaxed, understanding where Willow was coming from. She glanced at the pencil and smothered a grin. _Emotional control huh?_ "I'm sorry." She apologised. "I know you hate talking about Faith."

"No, it's okay." Willow told her earnestly.

Buffy tried again. "Really, I…"

Willow cut her off. "It doesn't bother me. I mean it."

Buffy grinned. "Uh, Will?" When Willow looked at Buffy, Buffy indicated the pencil that Willow had left spinning in mid-air.

The pencil was now spinning so fast that it was starting to smoke.

"Oh!" Willow cried, mentally reviewing her options for slowing the pencil.

She attempted a hand gesture and the pencil stopped spinning violently in mid-air, only to embed itself in the trunk of a nearby tree.

"Emotional control." Buffy said, trying not to laugh.

"I'm working on it." Willow said defensively.

Buffy looked at her best friend, amusement dancing in her eyes, before a thought struck and her gaze snapped to her watch.

"Uhhh!" The Slayer moaned, staring stricken at her watch.

"Buffy? What's wrong?" Willow asked, concerned.

Buffy finished gathering up her stuff, throwing it haphazardly into her bag. "I'm late." She exclaimed before getting up and running off in the general direction of the library.

Willow carefully damped down the slight niggling sense of betrayal. _Buffy had Slayer things to do, that was all. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in hanging out with her, it was just that there were more important things that Buffy **needed** to do._

Willow pulled a textbook and notebook out of her bag, intending to study. Her science teacher had hinted that there might be some questions on mutants in the finals and Willow wanted to make some extra notes. She started looking for a pencil and then realised that her last one was currently half-buried in a tree. _Well, if magic got it in there then magic was darn well gonna get it out._ Willow thought.

She held her hand out and imagined the pencil backing out of the tree and into her hand. She imagined what it would look like in her hand, the colour of it, the feel. As an extra touch, she added the silvery sheen that was now an accepted part of her vision to the pencil.

And that was when it happened. A pencil popped into existence on her palm. Willow blinked. _That wasn't magic._ She checked the tree. Her original pencil was still half-buried in it. Willow dropped the new pencil and pictured another one. That one also appeared from nowhere. 

Willow breathed in and out carefully, trying not to panic. She examined the facts logically. She wasn't using magic, and the pencils only appeared when she added the silver light to the picture. Willow tried again, this time shading the pencil with the correct hue of silver for chocolate. A perfect chocolate pencil was suddenly in her hand. Willow nibbled on it.

_Definitely chocolate. What the hell was going on? Wait a second, if it was connected to the silver light that was now a part of her day-to-day life... **that** had first appeared in the boiler room, when she'd thought she was going to die. Wait, that sounded familiar somehow._

Willow frowned, trying to remember what she'd seen that rang a bell and where she'd seen it. Then she noticed exactly what she was frowning at.  Her science textbook; open at the chapter on human mutation.

_Oh God_. She realised. _I'm a mutant!_


	4. 2000: Part One: A Meeting

2000 – Part One

Willow and Buffy strolled slowly down Sunnydale Main Street.

"But, you have whipped cream."  Willow reasoned.  "I saw it in Giles' fridge."

Buffy rolled her eyes.  "That was the whipped cream in the canister.  It's only _right_ if you whip it yourself."

Willow smiled.  _Buffy is really getting into the whole Thanksgiving thing._  "Yay."  She monotoned.  "And then we can churn our own butter and make sweaters out of sheep!"

Buffy smiled, recognising Willow's good-natured teasing for what it was.

"I swear, this'll be the last thing."  She promised. "Anyway, I have an appointment to go see this priest Giles called me about.  He thinks he might have some information…"  Buffy broke off as she heard someone call her name and looked around to see who it could be.  She smiled happily as she noticed Riley crossing the street towards her.  "Hi."  She said to him.  "I didn't see you at all.  Where'd you come from?"

Riley came to a halt in front of Buffy and Willow and grinned.  Willow could tell how much he liked Buffy by the way that he obviously couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Oh, just across the street and…"  Riley glanced over his shoulder in the direction that he'd come from.  "..And a couple of blocks down."  He noticed Willow for the first time.  "Hey Willow."  He greeted her.

Willow waved at him.  "Hi."  She looked around for an excuse to leave Buffy and Riley alone.  "You know, I think I'll just let you two…"  _The Espresso Pump!  Perfect._  "Hey look!  They're selling coffee in the… coffee shop."  Willow said with a wave in the direction of the café that neither Buffy nor Riley actually saw.  "Yum!"  She said as she quickly ducked into the shop and into the queue.

Clutching her mocha carefully, Willow made her way across the café, intending to see how Riley and Buffy were getting on.  She was so intent on trying to be sneaky that she didn't notice the other 'sneaky' person in the shop… until she bumped into him.

Willow's scalding hot mocha went the way of gravity.  Swiftly looking down, Willow had just enough time to picture in her minds eye, the dull silver of the hot liquid brightening before it hit both her and the person she'd bumped into.  Willow stepped back to look at the person she'd bumped into as the ice that had been her mocha a split second ago fell to the floor.

"Angel!"  Willow gasped as his hand covered her mouth.  Her eyes widened.  "Evil!"  She exclaimed into his hand.  "You're all evil again."

Angel looked deep into her eyes.  "I'm not evil."  He assured her before letting her go.  "I'm here to help Buffy."

Willow was immediately concerned.  "What's going on?"  She asked.

"My friend had a vision."  Angel said.  "Buffy's in danger."  He continued, not giving Willow time to process his first statement, never mind his second.

_Angel has a friend.  Angel's made friends!  _Willow thought._  Wait... this friend has visions?  Visions of...Buffy in danger._  Alarmed, Willow glanced back at Buffy, who was happily chatting to Riley.  _Okay, no obvious danger there._  She conceded, turning back to Angel.

"So tell her.  Help her!"  Willow told him, amazed that he was skulking in the shadows other than standing by Buffy's side.

Angel shook his head.  "If she sees me, it'll be worse."  He said with a glance at Buffy.

Willow frowned.  "See, I don't get that.  All this 'leaving for her own good' garbage.  Because that's what it is!  You can't just give up on something because there's obstacles.  What kind of…"

"Willow?"  Angel interrupted, amazed that Willow, _Willow of all people,_ was saying this to him.  _Out of everyone here in Sunnydale, I thought Willow at least would try to understand.  She's always accepted me before._  He thought to himself.

Willow noticed the look of utter bewilderment on Angel's face.  "Sorry."  She apologised.  "My stuff."

"You know how I feel about her."  Angel tried to explain.  To justify himself.  "If there was any way…"

Willow cringed.  "Yeah, I know."

"It's just… everything's different now."  Angel said with a wistful sigh.

_Gotta stop him brooding._  Willow thought, as she mentally reviewed a list of subjects for her to bring up.  "Hey, is Cordelia really working for you?"  She asked with a grin.  "That's gotta be... a  special experience.  Of all the people you could've hired…"

"Willow."  Angel reproved.  "I'm here to protect Buffy.  I don't have a whole lotta time  for personal stuff."

Willow nodded.  _I knew that._  "Right. How can I help?"  She asked.

Angel looked at where Buffy stood flirting with some guy.  "Well… if you can just tell me... Who's that guy?"  He asked jealously.

"Oh!"  Willow exclaimed, understanding completely.  "That's Riley.  He's a TA in our Psyche class."  She explained, taking advantage of Angel's distraction to warm up the mocha that she'd dropped.

Carefully, she mentally shone the light brighter and brighter until the ice had completely dissolved.

"Willow!"  Angel exclaimed.

Willow flinched.  _The last thing I need is for someone to announce that I'm a mutant in the middle of Sunnydale_.  She thought.  _The anti-mutant frenzy is bigger than ever, thanks to that guy... Magneto... trying to assassinate everyone at the World Leaders Summit._  "Yes?"  she asked timidly.

"Willow, your eyes!"  Angel said, looking shocked.

"What about them?"  Willow was relieved.  She knew her mutation hadn't had affected her appearance, unlike some other, high profile, mutants.

Angel cupped Willow's face turning into a slightly better light.  "I'd swear they just flashed silver."  He told her.

Willow laughed nervously.  _Okay, so maybe my mutation has affected my appearance, I just didn't know it.  I mean, how can you check your own eyes for flashes of silver?  It's impossible... right?  _"Why would my eyes flash silver?"  She asked Angel.  "My eyes wouldn't flash silver.  People's eyes don't flash silver."

Angel looked at Willow suspiciously.  _Here it comes._  Willow thought.  _This is the part where he announces that I'm a mutant.  A freak._

"How much coffee have you had?"  Angel asked her.

"Too much!"  Willow told him.  "Way too much coffee.  I should probably go and be… someplace that is else."  With that, Willow turned and left Angel standing alone in the middle of the coffee shop, looking after her with an extremely bewildered expression.


	5. 2000: Part Two: A Continuation

2000 – Part Two

Willow, Xander and Anya walked away from the Dean's residence in silence.  Suddenly, Xander broke the silence.

"Well that was a waste of time."  He said bitterly.

Anya looked up from her piece of plastic-wrapped pumpkin pie as the trio halted.

"I think he thought we were crazy."  Willow said mournfully.  _No one's ever thought I was insane before.  I wonder if he'll put it on my permanent record?  Can I have a permanent record in college?_

Xander smiled bitterly.  "Maybe Anya shouldn't have opened the conversation with 'Everybody got both ears?'"  He asked.

"I like his wife."  Anya smiled at her pie.  "She gave me pie."

Willow barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.  _Why couldn't Xander find himself a normal girlfriend.  Or, failing that, at least one who **acted** normal?_

"So what do we do now?"  Xander asked.

Willow shrugged.  "We could stay and stand watch."  She suggested dubiously.  "But I don't know…"  She broke off as Angel stepped out of the darkness.

"Willow…"

Xander jumped.  "Angel!"   He scowled as his girlfriend looked the brooding vampire up and down speculatively.

"_This_ is Angel."  She said predatorily.  Angel shifted uncomfortably.  "He's large and glowery, isn't he?"

Anya pouted as Xander stepped in front of her, protecting her from Angel.  "He's evil again."  Xander warned, his body tense, the adrenaline already flowing in preparation for flight or fight.

"I'm not evil again!"  Angel protested.  "Why does everyone think that?"

Willow rushed to explain.  "Angel's here to protect Buffy."  She said.

"I haven't been evil for a long time!"  Angel continued.

"Buffy's not supposed to know he's here."  Willow warned Xander and Anya.  "Angel, you have something new?"  She asked.

Angel blinked.  _Focus_.  He thought.  _You're here for two reasons.  Protect Buffy by updating Willow and Giles and see whether or not Willow's eyes do that flashing thing again._  "Yeah."  He said.  "All the Chumash weapons are missing from the cultural centre.  Something's up.  Where's Buffy?"  He peered at Willow's face.

"Still at Giles'"  Willow informed him.  "She just sent us to check on Dean Guerrero."

Anya smiled.  "He's fine."  She said helpfully.  "Lots of ears."

"Why the Dean?"  Angel asked, frowning as he mentally adjusted his mindset in order to cope with Anya.

"We think he's going after someone in charge."  Willow said.  "A leader."

Angel shifted uneasily.  "He's a warrior."  He thought aloud and then realised what that meant.  "To a warrior the leader means the strongest fighter."

"Buffy."  Xander said, feeling the familiar sense of icy horror slide down his spine.

Angel tried to get a better look at Willow's eyes.  _If only she'd just move slightly to the left, then the light from that streetlamp would shine right onto her face.  _"He's formed a raiding party."  He told the others.

Willow took a step forward, moving out of the shadow of a tree and into the streetlight.  "We've got to get back there!"  She said, panicking slightly.

_Got you!_  Angel thought triumphantly as he looked deep into Willow's eyes.  Now he actually looked, it did seem as though there was something different about them.  About the colour.  _It's almost as though the green of her eyes is being reflected by polished silver._  He dismissed the thought as being ludicrously lyrical.  "I'll call her."  He said, transferring his attention from Willow specifically to the group as a whole.  "You get back _fast_."

Xander frowned.  "How can we…"  He stopped the sentence as Angel strode to a nearby bike rack and snapped the lock on one of the bikes.  He grinned.


	6. 2000: Part Three: A Revelation

2000 – Part Three

Willow rummaged through her pencil case and pulled out a pencil. With a start, she realised that she recognised it as the very first pencil she had ever made. To her now more experienced eyes, it appeared crude and ill made. With a sentimental half-smile however, Willow started to write her psychology paper with it.

"_There are five basic processes in operant conditioning: positive and negative reinforcement strengthen behavior; punishment, response cost, and extinction weaken behavior._

_Positive Reinforcement-- a positive reinforcement is added after a response and increases the frequency of the response._

_Negative Reinforcement-- after the response the negative reinforcement is removed which increases the frequency of the response._

_Response Cost-- the positive reinforcement is removed, weakening the frequency of the response._

_Punishment-- punishment weakens a behavior by adding a negative stimulus. After a response a negative or aversive stimulus is added which weakens the frequency of the response._

_Extinction--No longer reinforcing a previously reinforced response (using either positive or negative reinforcement) results in the weakening of the frequency of the response._"

Willow was just wondering whether or not the conditioning of Spike via Punishment had been The Initiative's ultimate goal or if they'd simply wanted a way to insure their personnel's safety and if she should mention to Spike the possibility that when he got his chip out he might not even want to harm humans any more, when the tip of her pencil broke off. 

Thinking nothing of it, Willow extracted a pencil sharpener from her pencil case and commenced sharpening, her mind already dwelling on the possibilities surrounding Spike's chip and whether or not she dared mention the possibility of him as a case study – with the details suitably changed of course – in her paper. 

With a blink, she realised that she'd sharpened her pencil into a sharp wooden point. Perfect for slaying, but not so perfect for writing… the pencil had no graphite running through it. _That doesn't happen now though… right?_ She thought.

Deciding to test her theory, just in case, Willow pictured a new pencil. It popped into existence and just as quickly, Willow snapped it in half. It too had no graphite running through the centre. _Okay, so the mutant powers do come with limitations._ Willow realised. _But what happens if I..._

Seizing her idea, Willow pictured a long, slim piece of rounded graphite. Slowly, she built the wood of the pencil up around it. Snatching the newly created pencil from her desk, Willow snapped it in half, revealing a thin line of graphite running through the pencil. Willow frowned, reasoning her discovery out in her mind.

_I create a pencil based on what it looks like and its defective. I build it up from the inside out and its fine. So... I can only create... what I can see? I guess that would kinda make sense, if my power's directly related to my eyesight – I can see atoms and manipulate them – then it's also restricted by my eyesight._

Willow took a sip of her tea and grimaced. "Ugh. Cold." She said to herself.

Concentrating, she dimmed the light behind the silvery liquid, thinning out the molecules, and watched it shimmer, billions of tiny atoms colliding with one another quicker and quicker and quicker... 

Just as quickly, Willow broke her concentration to take a sip of her now warm tea.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N

Hey guys, sorry for the extreme lack of update... I've had the familial problems recently and kinda moved out for a short while. That coupled with a phenomenal writing pace on all my other projects (Darkling's now up to 24 chapters, Project One has been completed to the Second Draft, Project Two has had the history (past and present) very firmly delved into and future storylines have been set up as well as the creation of a whole new language!) unfortunately meant that Red got kinda neglected.

But it's not all bad. I've had lots of time to do research on the whole Marvel background and I'm now completely terrified. How can I possibly do justice to what is possibly the most complex grouping of characters I have ever seen in my life? So I've decided to keep things as simple as possible for those who, like me, are novices in the world of Marvel. And pray like mad that I don't make a huge faux pas. *lol*

I hope to update again soon!

Kennie


	7. 2002: A Jump in the Timeline

2002 (A jump in the timeline)

Willow walked into her room, exhaustion making her bones feel as though they were made of lead, weighting her entire body down.  A night of clubbing a witchcraft with Amy had taken its toll and now all she wanted to do was sleep.  Still dressed, Willow lay down on her bed and closed her eyes.

Only to open them again a moment later.  The curtain were open, allowing sunlight to spill unchecked into the bedroom and across the bed.  Willow gestured vaguely in the direction of the curtains.

"Claudete."  She said, half into her pillow.

Nothing happened.  Willow lifted her head and looked at the window.  Centring herself, she gathered her energy and gestured at the curtains again.

"_Claudete_!"  She said more distinctly.

Nothing happened.  Willow the wicked wiccan was all magiced out.  She frowned, deciding to use her mutant powers instead.  Willow had attempted to avoid using her mutant powers when it wasn't strictly necessary, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to herself, afraid of her friends reactions to discovering that she was in fact a mutant.  But this was an emergency.  Willow needed to sleep right now like she needed to breath.

Focussing, she pictured the curtains as they would hang if they were closed.  In her minds eye, she added the silver light and waited for the internal popping, like her ears adjusting to a change in altitude, that would tell her that her image had translated itself to the real world.

Nothing happened.  Apparently her mutant powers, which she never used, had also been sapped by her display of witchcraft.

Still frowning, Willow got up and closed the curtains manually, before flopping on her bed to fall into the dreamless sleep of the deeply fatigued.


	8. Discovery

Willow hummed quietly along to the piped mall music as she flipped through the store rack of clothing.  

Part fifty-seven of the 'Willow's no longer a wicked witch' Twelve-step Program was the buying of a whole new wardrobe to reflect that fact.  At least, it was if you listened to Buffy, who only needed an excuse such as 'I must co-ordinate with my manicure' to buy a new wardrobe.

And Willow was doing well!  She really was.  She hadn't touched magic in one month and twenty-three days.  It was a lot easier now than it had been.  She no longer wanted to use magic to make her life easier.  Although, if she had to admit it, she had often been tempted to use magic to help Buffy and the others.  And now that she wasn't using magic, it seemed as though her mutant powers had exploded.  For example, just the other day, without intending to, she had accidentally covered Buffy's entire kitchen in ice.

It hadn't been her fault.  She had been cooking her lunch and thinking about the fact that she really should consider moving out when the tea towel she had left next to the cooker had accidentally caught on fire.  When she'd realised what was going on, she'd immediately tried to remove the heat element of fire with her mutant power, but it had all gone horribly wrong.  The fire had died down but somehow she'd gone way too far and the tea towel had acquired a layer of frost all over it.  Things hadn't stopped there.  Everything else in the kitchen had acquired a layer of frost.  Willow had somehow managed to turn the air in the kitchen down to subzero temperatures.  It had taken until Dawn came home from school for the kitchen to warm back up to an acceptable temperature, and even then there had still been a noticeable chill in the air.

But it wasn't just stuff like the kitchen that had Willow convinced that her mutant powers were out of control.  She was finding that she had to be more and more careful about daydreaming, as whenever she was distracted, things tended to go a little haywire.  Like when Dawn's hot chocolate had started boiling in her mug.  And the time when she'd been wondering what she'd look like if she cut her hair and suddenly, without realising, she had used her mutant power to literally dissolve a good few inches of her hair into nothing.  The new haircut had looked awful and it had taken her four hours to painstakingly add an extra couple of inches onto the end of each hair on her head.  Then there was the time Buffy had fallen down into the basement.  From the dining room.  The others weren't quite certain how the hole in the floor had come to be there but they were blaming the Hellmouth.  Something that Willow was extremely glad about, because it kept them from figuring out that she was a mutant who, whilst daydreaming, had accidentally turned the dining room floor into oxygen.

It seemed as though the longer Willow went without using magic, the greater her mutant powers grew.  Until she had given up magic, it had always seemed like an incredible effort to use her powers but now it was happening without her even being aware of it.  And the kitchen incident still sent shivers down her spine.  She could remember with a disturbing clarity how everything she could see had brightened beyond belief as the tiny molecules of water inherent in the atmosphere had huddled closer and closer together, freezing in midair and plunging the temperature in the room way down.

Willow pulled a purple top out of the rack and looked at it critically.  _Perhaps if the sleeves were a little longer_…

She felt the internal pop that signified a change in her surroundings.  Willow looked around, wondering what she had changed and if anyone had noticed.  She couldn't see anything, but she shoved the top back onto the rack and hurried out of the store and back into the mall, just in case.

Behind her, the sleeves of the top dangled half-an-inch beyond the sleeves of other, formerly identical, tops in the rack.

Willow glanced at her watch as she passed the sunken food court.  The sun would have gone down a good hour ago and she had no lift to take her safely back home.  But Buffy would be getting off of work and passing the main mall entrance in about half an hour and she could walk home with her.  Willow decided to grab some food at the food court whilst she waited.

*          *          *

Willow was on her way to an empty table, a tray full of food firmly grasped in her hands when it happened.  A bright flash temporarily blinded her and a tape recorder was shoved under her nose.  When her vision cleared, she saw standing before a her a maudlin looking reporter and his equally depressed photographer.  The reporter flashed his card at her.

"Saul Robertson, Sunnydale Press."  He muttered.  "I wonder if I could ask you a few questions for our 'Focus on Sunnydale' column?"  

Willow carefully placed her tray on a nearby table and glanced at her watch.  "Uhhh."  She said noncommittally.

"Great."  Saul monotoned.  "Name?"

"Willow Rosenburg."  Willow informed him with a resigned sigh and a despairing glance at her surroundings.  That same glance cane to rest on the entrance to the Food Court as Around twenty or so vampires stormed in and blocked both the door in and out of the Food Court and the fire exits.

Willow stepped back and assessed the situation.  With no way in and no way out, the mall shoppers were trapped in an enclosed area.  The Slayer wouldn't be going past for another twenty minutes at least, and probably wouldn't even come into the mall, choosing instead to go home and have a long shower before getting ready for patrol.  Everyone in the Food Court was going to be vampire food and they didn't even know.  And that damn reporter was still asking her questions.

"Age?"  Saul repeated, obviously getting testy.

"Twenty-one."  Willow told him absently, her attention still focussed on the vampires.  At best she could maybe take out two of them before the rest overwhelmed her.  But if she at least tried, then there was a chance that perhaps the other shoppers would get the whole 'pointy piece of wood in heart = no more nasty man' equation.  Willow realised that her plan contained a lot of 'what ifs' but it was the best one she could come up with.

Saul's photographer followed her gaze, disturbed by the intensity of her look.  Nervously, he looked back and forth between the slight redhead Saul was interviewing and the men with the disturbing features who were blocking the exit.  As he watched, one of the men made his way towards a small stage and jumped up onto it.

"Have you lived in Sunnydale long?"  Saul asked.

Willow moved a few steps forward, staring at the vampire ringleader as he bounded onto the small stage at one end of the Food Court.  Willow could remember occasionally coming here for lunch back in High School, when the Dingoes were playing on that very same stage.  "All my life."  She replied distractedly.

Saul perked up a little.  _This was a column that might actually be interesting for a change.  It was so rare that he actually got a chance to interview one of Sunnydale's born and bred natives that he was beginning to wonder if they really existed._  He frowned as the girl, _what had she said her name was?_, stepped past him and began to run towards the stage.  Beside him, his photographer, _he'd forgotten his name too_, lifted up his camera and started taking pictures.

In front of Willow, the vampire leader reached down and lifted up a young teenaged girl from among her friends.  She couldn't have been more than thirteen at most, certainly younger than Dawn.  Around the Food Court, the other vampires took that as their cue to begin eating and each grabbed whoever was closest.

Still unnoticed by the vampires, Willow pushed herself harder, ran faster, praying that she reached the vampire before he had a chance to hurt the girl.

The man on stage lowered his head to the young girls neck as Saul's photographer took another picture.

Willow leapt up onto the stage and used her forward momentum to land a really good right hook on the vampire's forehead.  The vampire growled, forced to let go of the girl and stagger back.

Around the Food Court, people's attention was diverted to the proceedings onstage whilst others cried out as the vampires that held them drank deeply from their necks.

Onstage, Willow and the vampire circled one another, each looking for an opening.  Suddenly, the vampire lunged at Willow.  She attempted to side-step but wasn't quick enough; the vampire caught her shoulder as he passed and knocked her to the ground.

Grinning toothily, the vampire stood over her.  Willow's anger reached boiling point and she swept a leg into the vampire's ankles, making him lose his balance and fall to the stage beside her.  Willow got to her feet as quickly as she could, eager to press her advantage, but the vampire was on his feet a fraction before her and lunging at her again.

This time, Willow managed to side step successfully and, grateful to Giles for his training, followed the vampire around with a roundhouse kick to the chin.

The vampire staggered back and Willow glanced at her hand, instantly creating a convenient stake with her mutant powers, before lunging forward and staking the vampire.

As he crumbled into dust, the other vampires in the Food Court began to notice what was happening and Willow found herself surrounded and vulnerable onstage as the five nearest vampires rushed at her.  Absently, she noticed that Saul and his photographer were unaffected by the melee and that the photographer was currently taking pictures of both her and the vampires.  Willow shrugged.  After all, it no longer mattered if she was outed as a mutant; she was about to die anyway.

Two different vampires grabbed Willow's arms and a third snatched a handful of her hair, using it to tilt her head to one side, exposing her neck.  Willow struggled futiley, her mind working overload.

She was a mutant… She was going to die… She was a mutant… Something seemed wrong… the one statement appeared to contradict the other.  Surely if she was a mutant, there was a way out of this?  Wait… her power…

Willow concentrated as one of the remaining two vampires onstage leant towards her throat.  She had never consciously affected something as large as vampire but _it might just work_…

She pictured the vampire slowly dissolving into air.  An internal popping sensation signalled that she had been successful.

Willow grinned.  Amazingly, she felt fine.  Changing the vampire into oxygen hadn't affected her adversely at all.  If anything, it had upped her adrenaline levels slightly.  Turning to the last of the vampires onstage not holding her in place, Willow decided to attempt something more creative.  She pictured his shirt on fire and watched it happen.  The vampire ran around the stage, trying to put himself out and Willow giggled at the image he made before he finally combusted.

Snarling, the vampire behind her lunged for her throat, but with a sidelong look and the judicious use of her power, one of the vampires holding her arms dissolved into thin air and Willow was able to use her arm to elbow the vampire behind her in the gut.

Capitalising on his shock, Willow glanced at her foot, imagined a stake protruding from her shoe, and swung around to deliver a kick to the chest of the vampire holding her other arm.

The vampire let go of her arm in order to stagger backwards, clutching his chest before turning to dust.

Willow grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.  She felt great! As the one remaining vampire on the stage with her lunged forward, Willow swiftly bent down, grabbed her mutant-power-manufactured stake and smoothly stood back up to bury the stake in the his heart.

Leaving the stake where it was, Willow turned around to face her gaping audience, not bothering to check that the vampire dusted, choosing to rely on her years as a Slayerette to see that he did.

Instead, she glanced around the Food Court, actively seeking out the rest of the vampires and vaporising them with her mutant powers.  A glance at her bestaked foot restored it to normality and with the vampires gone, Willow could finally turn her attention to the terrified teenager huddled where the vampire ringleader had dropped her.

She crouched down beside the girl and lifted her head, barely conscious of Saul's photographer taking another picture.

The girl screamed and scooted back.  Confused, Willow looked at the girl and registered the fear in her eyes.

She frowned.  "I'm not going to hurt you."  Willow told the girl gently as her friends clambered up onto the stage.

Wrapping their arms around the girl they glared at Willow defiantly.

"Leave her alone!"  One of the boys bravely told Willow as the girl sobbed.

Shocked to the core, Willow backed away before looking around her at the people she had just saved.  They stared back at her, a mixture of fear and hostility in their glares.  Willow retreated a few more steps, unable to fully comprehende what she was seeing.

"Mutant!"  The boy hissed at her.

Willow ran.


	9. Animal Instincts

She ran through the crowded mall, ignoring the shopping bags that she left behind her, blocking out the thought that they might be following her, a creature solely of instinct… for now at least.

The air burning in her lungs, the look of terror on a young girl's face, the muscles in her legs screaming in agony; those were the only sensations permitted to her now.  All else, self included, must fade away behind her.

She pushed herself harder, faster, further; her years on the Mouth of Hell serving her well as she ran through the mall doors and into the blessed cool of the outdoors.

She continued onwards, something buried deep insider her – an instinct long forgotten – guiding her unheeding footsteps towards sanctuary.


	10. Day One: In the Clear Light of Day

Buffy woke slowly to the sound of an alarm.  Blearily, she rubbed her eyes as she turned her alarm clock off and rose from her bed.  She yawned wearily and stumbled out of her room and along the landing to the door to her sister's room.

"Dawn!"  She called.  "Get up.  You're going to be late for school!"

Hearing stirring noises emanating from Dawn's bedroom, Buffy continued on her way downstairs to start breakfast for the household, pausing only to open the front door and collect the morning paper from where it lay on the doormat.

Moving into the kitchen, she dropped the paper onto the side and busied herself with extracting milk and cereal from the fridge and cupboard. 

Dawn walked into the kitchen and helped herself to a bowl and spoon, seating herself at the table and fixing a bowl of cereal.

Wryly, Buffy fetched her own spoon and bowl from the cupboard and, unfolding the paper, settled herself at the table.

Before she had a chance to even glance at the paper however, the telephone rang and she got up to answer it.

Dawn listened to her conversation with half an ear.

"Hello?"  Buffy said upon picking up the phone.  "Oh, hi Xander, what's up? Willow?  She's still in bed.  Yes, Xander, I'm sure.  What?  Slow down, you're not making any sense.  What about the paper?  No, of course I haven't seen it yet, why else would I be asking.  Get to the point Xander."  Buffy listened to Xander for a moment before exploding.  "What!"  She fell silent once more, clearly listening to what Xander had to say.

Curious now, Dawn reached across the table and snagged the paper.  Upon seeing the front page, she froze, unable to comprehend what she was seeing.


	11. Day One: The Front Page

A/N

This chapter is written as a **parody** of a tabloid article.  The views expressed are **not my own** and the spelling and grammatical mistakes are deliberate.

The chapter is written from the point of view of an embittered and jaded hack who has never had a 'scoop' in his life and whose wife… well, you'll find out in subsequent chapters.  **The views expressed are indicative of said reporter's and are not my own**.

That said, on with the fic!

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Lesbian Mutant = Mass Male Murder 

By Saul Robertson

It was a devastating experiance last night to watch as Wollow Rosenburg giggled like a pig on helium as she brutally tortured one of many men before destroying them all.

This reporter could only watch in terrified horror as lesbian mutant Rosenburg went on a rampage of death, destruction and devestation.  Before an audiance of shoppers at the Mall's Food Court, she casually butchered more than twenty men.

An embittered Rosenburg turned to lesbianism after the break up of her relationship with 'Dingoes Ate My Baby's lead guitarist, Danial 'Oz' Osbourne.  Those close to her lesbian lover, Tata McClay, say that the couple recently split.  Perhaps the rumors that Rosenburg's one-time lesbian lover has gone back to men was the cause of her attack on Sunnydale's men yesterday.

Whatever the reason, nothing can disguis the fact that Willow, who currently lives with two other female, one of whom is still a minor, slaughterered over twently men in a chillingly callous attack in front of a captive audience.

Many question about last night's events and the attacker, Willow Rosenburg, 21, still reman.  What role do Rosenurg's housemates play in her mutant life?  With no actual remains left to examine, will Sunnydale's police be able to make a charges against Rosenburg stick?  And who knows what other abilities, Rosenburg, who is described as secretive, may be concealing?

One this is certain, the bloody stain of Rosenburg's attack will remain, etched forever into the history of this fair town.  This is inded, a sad day for all mankind.


	12. Day One: Deserted

A/N

Once again, I'm sorry for the massive delay in updating.  Those of you who are also reading my other work in progress, Darkling, are au fait with some of the reasons why.  Short story, the real world is regrettably taking up more and more of my time.  My first screenplay is almost ready to be sent out to companies with a note saying 'please hire me'; my second is halfway through the first draft (which basically means that half of it is missing); I'm now also writing a play.  I may shortly be moving house; I'm not actually staying in my house at present (I haven't been for the past month or so).  And I've just got more hours at work; I have a murder dinner to perform on Saturday; The play I'm in opens in two weeks today and we still haven't run the whole darn thing so rehearsals have been upped to five a week; I officially have no time off!

I'll update whenever I can, but please be patient.  As you can see, I'm a busy person right now.  Give me a month or so and things should have settled down somewhat and updates will pick up again.  

In the meantime, a massive **THANK YOU** for being so patient.

Kennie

P.S.  Vote for me!  http://shadesofgrey.com/awards/awards

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Buffy had heard enough.  Dropping the phone, and leaving Xander literally hanging in mid-air as the receiver swung crazily from side to side on its short wire, she sprinted from the room.

"Willow!"  She called as she headed for the stairs, Dawn hot on her heels.

"Willow!"  Dawn echoed as the sisters reached the staircase.

"Buffy?"  Xander asked from the other end of the phone line.

Buffy and Dawn reached the landing, Buffy just in front.

"Willow!"  Buffy shouted, and kicked the door to Willow's bedroom open.

The sisters stood in the doorway to Willow's bedroom.  It looked as though a hurricane had passed through.  Drawers were open and articles of clothing were strewn all over the place.  But there was no sign of Willow and her bed hadn't been slept in.

"Willow."  Dawn whispered.

Buffy turned and left.  Leaving a devastated Dawn still standing on Willow's threshold, she went back downstairs to talk to Xander.

Dawn crept silently inside Willow's bedroom and surveyed the damage.  Gingerly, almost as though expecting Willow to pop her head around the door to the bathroom and tell her to leave her stuff alone, Dawn picked up a jumper, folded it carefully and placed it back in a drawer.  In silence, she tidied Willow's room, putting everything back in its place.  Only then, did she sink down onto the bed and allow the tears that had been threatening to fall ever since she had first read the morning's paper.  Sobbing, Dawn curled up on Willow's bed, clutching a pillow.

Dawn had no idea of how long it had been before she came to her senses.  Hiccupping, she sat up and wiped her tears away.  Underneath her something crinkled and, frowning in puzzlement, Dawn pulled out a piece of paper.  She unfolded it and began to read.

_To Everyone._

_I've gone.  Please don't try to find me, it'll be more than I could bear right now.  You see, last night, something happened that I've been trying to hide for too long.  Oh, that makes no sense.  But this is the fourth time I've written this letter and if I want to get out of Sunnydale before the news breaks then I don't have time to write another.  Okay, I'll just tell you.  I'm a mutant.  I've known since Senior Year although I'm pretty sure that I have been ever since we got locked in the boiler room by Marcy.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.  I was scared I guess.  Of myself, and what it would mean and of your reaction.  I think Angel came pretty close to guessing a couple of years ago but I don't think he ever actually realised.  It was pretty easy to hide at first.  I think doing witchcraft drains my power somehow because ever since I quit it's been almost out of control.  And then last night happened.  And there was a reporter there.  And he had a photographer.  And oh God this is going to look bad when it hits the press.  Last night I was at the mall (which you may already know) and a bunch of vampires attacked.  They were about to kill everyone and I stopped them.  With my mutant power.  If you want to get all technical, I actually turned them into oxygen, molecule by molecule.  You see, I can see things on a subatomic level.  I can also manipulate things on a subatomic level.   And because matter is constantly being created and destroyed on a subatomic level…  Well, I'm sure you get the idea.  Anyway, a massive can of worms is about to open and I'm taking the only course of action that's still open to me.  Technically I'm a murderer now, no court of law is going to accept a plea of 'please Sir, they were already dead' (I checked) and the anti-mutant hysteria is so big now that it would be impossible for me to stay.  So I'm running.  Maybe I'll get a chance to check up on you all in a decade or so.  Until then, please try not to hate me for what I've done._

_All my Love,_

_Willow_


	13. Day One: Indecision

Red

A/N

Obsidian:  What was evil?  Me?  Li'l ole me?

The Sleepless Dreamer:  It took me half a bottle of vodka to be able to create those spelling mistakes… Glad you liked them *grins*

C-Theory:  I make 'em as long as I can.  What the story wants to tell, it tells.

Angeleyes:  *giggles and hugs the compliment to her chest* Yay!

HardysXtremeGurl:  Um… lack of time to write anymore?

Obsidian:  Close!  But no cigar.  Sorry.  Biscuit?  But seriously… no more tabloid articles for you Mister!  (I'll just leave a note on the chapters that contain clippings and you can avoid them from here on 'kay?  'Cause there's gonna be a fair few.)  Hope you like where both I and Willow are headed!

To the person who left no name and only said 'add':  Witness addage.

Seoid:  You inspired me to write the next chapter.  Thank you!  I'm glad you like Willow's power… it took me ages to come up with.  Eventually I just went round all of my friends and said: "If you could be a mutant, what would your ideal power be?"  Then I stole an idea.  I now have a friend who's no longer speaking to me because I stole her power and screwed it up. *lol*  As for where Willow's running to, keep reading!  It'll be about seven or nine chapters before you find out though!  *lol*

Talk to you all later!

Love, Kennie

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Pandemonium reigned.  The situation was so bad that even the usually placid Jean Grey had two priceless Ming vases poised to knock out Scott and Logan as the Professor arrived at his office for the morning teacher conference.

With a speaking glance a Jean, who sheepishly lowered the vases to their usual places, the Professor wheeled himself to his usual position behind his desk.

"Settle down."  He instructed the room in general.

Scott and Logan detached, sat down and commenced glaring at one another in lieu of actual physical harm.

"Cerebro registered a powerful mutant phenomenon overnight."  The Professor told them all, getting straight to the core of the matter.  "Twenty men were killed."

Scott, Logan, Storm and Jean all spoke at once.

"What?"

"How?" 

"Where?"

"Who did it?"

"A young mutant with extraordinary powers dissolved them.  She appears to have the ability to create and destroy matter at will."  The Professor informed them.  "I'd like the four of you to travel to Sunnydale, California, where the incident took place tomorrow.  There you will meet with the girl and decide whether to hand her over to the authorities or to bring her all."

The group assented and matters turned to the students until the meeting broke up for breakfast.

It was whilst getting her breakfast that Storm met with an accident that would force her to stay behind the next day.  She accidentally bumped into a student.

A wave of indecision overcame her and she stared helplessly at her plate, trying to decide whether or not to turn and face the student she had bumped into.

Jean was the first to notice her dilemma.  Instructing Scott to take Storm to the sick bay, she turned to the student responsible.

Elizabeth Banning had been at the school for years.  The only child of two geniuses, she had inherited their gifts.  She was possessed of a photographic memory and a brain that worked faster than Cerebro, due in part to her parents and in part to her mutant capabilities.  She was also an extreme liability.

Part of Elizabeth's ability was the power to pass memories and thoughts to other people with a touch.  Unfortunately she was also a seething mass of indecision.  Any accidental contact left the other person temporarily in the same state she was in; virtually unable to function.  Even the Professor found it difficult to penetrate her mind and it was unknown whether her indecision was related to her mutant power.

"What happened?"  Jean asked her.

Elizabeth gabbled her answer too quickly for Jean to follow.

This often happened with Elizabeth; her brain worked too quickly for her mouth to keep up.

Jean braced herself.  "Show me."  She urged.

Elizabeth hesitated and then reached out and touched Jean's bare arm.

Instantly Jean saw the events unfold.

She felt Elizabeth's agonising indecision as she debated what to eat for breakfast, running through the options in great detail.  She saw Storm accidentally bump into Elizabeth, who felt her indecision being transmitted to Storm.  She then shared Elizabeth's indecision over what to do next, try to help Storm?  Summon another teacher?  Pretend it hadn't happened?  Eat breakfast?  But what would she eat for breakfast?  Would it be easier to help Storm instead of eating breakfast?  Should she – 

Elizabeth broke the contact and instantly the events were relegated to Jean's memory.

Jean loaded a plate with food and turned back to Elizabeth.  Clamping down a niggle of indecision, she handed her the plate.

"Eat this."  She told her kindly.


	14. Day Two: Fallout

Red

Day Two:  Fallout

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Buffy quickly opened her front door to admit Xander to the house, and then just as quickly slammed it shut.  Fortunately, it didn't quite close as there was a reporters foot in the way.

Sighing to the sound of the anguished yell, Buffy eased the door open a crack so that the reporter could remove his foot and then closed it.

"You'd think they'd learn."  She told Xander, heading into the kitchen where there was slightly more privacy from the reporters.  "That's the fifth reporter that's happened to since they started camping out."

"How long have they been here?"  Xander asked.

Buffy shrugged.  "Forever?"

"Do you want me to take Dawn to school or not?"  Xander asked.

Buffy glanced at the front door again.  "Not."  She told him.  "It's been pretty rough on her.  She's been practically ostracised by the entire school because she was living with a mutant."

"Ouch!"  Xander commented.

"How's work?"  Buffy asked, pouring Xander a cup of coffee.

Xander accepted the cup gratefully.  "After a reporter walked underneath a falling two-by-four I gave my guys the week off.  It was impossible to get any work done anyway.  On the plus side, Anya says business at the Magic Box has never been so good.  People keep coming in to gawp and then she sells them things."

"Well it's good that there's a bright side to life."  Buffy said, pouring a glass of orange juice for Dawn as she arrived in the kitchen.  "Does anyone know how Tara's dealing?"

"Haven't heard a word."  Xander informed her.

"Me either."  Dawn said, looking at the phone.  The wire had been yanked out of the socket.  "Buffy!"  She complained.

"What?"  Buffy asked.  Dawn plugged the phone back in.  "I wouldn't do that if I were you."  Buffy warned.  Almost immediately the telephone began to ring.  "See."  She prophesised gloomily.

"What if it's Tara or Willow trying to get through?"  Dawn asked, answering the phone.

"If it's Willow, hang up."  Buffy instructed.

"Hello?  Um, hang on."  Dawn told the person on the other end of the line.  "It's The Sun.  Would we care to grant them an interview?"

"No!"  Buffy exclaimed.  "Hang up."

"They're willing to pay."  Dawn tempted before turning back to the person on the other end of the line.  "How much?"

"Dawn, I said no!"

Dawn named a figure.  A high figure.  A _very_ high figure.  In the middle of grabbing the phone off of Dawn and hanging up, Buffy paused and considered.  One interview would clear all of her debt problems and mean that she could go back to college.  Two would pay for Dawn's tuition.  Three would… Buffy shook off the thought.

"No comment."  She told the other person.  And hung up.  Immediately the phone began to ring again.  She pulled the wire out again.  "Don't plug it back in."  She warned Dawn.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

On the other end of the phone line, a very worried Angel allowed the connection to ring, and ring, and ring.  After ten minutes he gave up.

"I'll try again in a couple of hours."  He told an equally worried Cordelia.

"Do you think they're okay?"  Cordelia asked.

Angel moved out of the office and into the hotel lobby.  "I'm sure they're fine.  It's Willow I'm worried about."

"Me too."  Cordelia agreed.  "Do you really think she killed all those people?"

Angel picked up the paper and studied the article again.  "If she did, she must have had a good reason."

"I mean, Willow, _our _Willow, a mutant. Pshaw! Not likely."  Cordelia said, attempting to make light of the matter.  "Anyway, it's only a tabloid.  What do they know?"

Gunn entered the lobby from the outside street, Fred hot on his heels.  He brandished a stack of papers at them.  "The story's in practically everything except the Wall Street Journal."  He informed them.

"But it was a close run thing."  Said Fred.

Angel headed back into his office.  "I'm going to try Buffy again."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Back in Sunnydale, a very distressed Tara was hiding in her dorm room. Fortunately, her fellow dorm members had banded behind her and were actively helping her hide from the hordes of reporters that had descended upon the college.  Of course, it probably helped that she was staying in the main science dorm.

Once again she picked up her phone and dialled Buffy's number…

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Angel emerged from his office.  "It's engaged." He told the small group of people waiting for news.

"I don't understand."  Fred said.  "If Willow's a mutant, how did she manage to hide it?  I've heard that in the early development stages, a mutant's abilities are very difficult to harness, and given the average age that mutants manifest their abilities, she'd have been in High School and it's almost impossible to hide anything from fellow students."

"How many times!"  Cordelia exclaimed.  "Willow's _not_ a mutant!  She's a witch."

"But what kind of witch has those kind of abilities?"  Gunn asked.

"A very powerful one."  Angel told him.  "And whilst Willow has the power, she's mostly lacking in discipline.  Besides, didn't she give up witchcraft?"

"Did she?"  Cordelia asked.  "Why?"

Angel shrugged.  "Apparently it was felt that she was becoming addicted."

"Maybe that's the reason."  Fred mused.  "Maybe using witchcraft somehow depleted her powers, so that it was a while before they appeared.  Which is why she killed those people."  She registered the killer glares she was getting from both angel and Cordelia.  "By accident."

"Willow's not a mutant."  Cordelia told her.  "I don't care what anyone says.  It's not possible."

Wesley arrived on the scene.  "Any news?"  He asked.

As one the group shook their heads.

"There's still no answer from anyone in Sunnydale."  Angel told him.  "I even tried Xander."

"You were desperate."  Wesley remarked.

Angel nodded gloomily.  "I'm going to try him again.  Anyone coming?"

The gathering in the lobby moved into the office.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

In a secluded clearing on the outskirts of Sunnydale a small aircraft touched down smoothly in a perfect landing.

Inside the jet, Cyclops glanced smugly at Wolverine.

He was looking nonchalantly at his fingernails.  A little _too_ nonchalantly.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Lorne strolled down the Hyperion Hotel stairs, sea breeze in hand, and into the lobby.  Finding no one there, he picked up a copy of a tabloid paper someone had thoughtfully left out for him on the desk and glanced at the front page.

His sea breeze hit the floor.

Alerted by the noise, Gunn stuck his head out of the office.  Seeing Lorne, he walked over to join him.

"Sucks, don't it?"  He commented with a meaningful look at the paper.

Lorne was still staring at the front page in shock.  "How did Willow wind up on the front page of a tabloid for killing vampires?"  He asked.

"Huh?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

As per instructions, the X-Men were dressed in casual clothing, all the better to blend in with their surroundings, although their uniforms were back at the jet, in case they needed to change.  The team consisted of Cyclops, Jean Grey and Wolverine; still crippled by her infected indecision, Storm had had to remain behind at the school.

Together they approached a newspaper stand with the intention of discovering what they could of the previous events here in this quiet town.

"Local paper."  Wolverine grunted at the seller.

"Sold out."  The man informed them unhelpfully.

Cyclops glanced at his watch.  "It's not even twelve."

The man shrugged.  Wolverine looked ready to unsheathe his claws in order to 'persuade' the man to be more considerate of his customers so Jean stepped in instead.

"Would you happen to have a private copy we could borrow?"  She asked, using all her power to convince the man.  "Just to look at."

The man handed over his copy of the paper without demur.  The X-Men moved slightly further away so that they could talk without being overheard.

"That her?"  Wolverine asked Jean, pointing to a convenient photograph.

Jean mentally compared the photo to the image of the young girl that the Professor had shared with her and nodded an affirmative.

"The entire front page is about what happened."  Cyclops commented incredulously.

Jean pointed to the by-line.  "Should we go talk to this Saul Robertson?"

"Maybe."  Cyclops said.  "If we can't discover what really happened in any other way."

"Don't like reporters, huh?"  Wolverine commented.

Cyclops shrugged.  "They tend to be biased."

"This one certainly is."  Jean said, turning the page.  "The majority of the article is devoted to abusing all lesbians and mutants…"

"Story must be right up this guy's alley."  Wolverine remarked.

"Aha!"  Jean exclaimed triumphantly.  "We have a name _and_ an address.  Wollow Roseburg, twenty-one, student at the local university, lives in Revollo Drive."  She folded up the paper and returned it to the newspaper seller.  "I don't suppose you could tell me where Revollo Drive is?"  She asked him.

The seller grinned.  "You mean Revello Drive.  That Robertson dude is always misspelling stuff."  He gave them the necessary instructions. "You reporters?"  He asked.

"No."  Wolverine told him curtly, and they moved on.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Angel stared intently at the newspaper photograph as Fred and Gunn filled Lorne in.

"Lorne's right."  He judged.  Lorne smirked.  "The guy in the far left is definitely a vampire."  Angel continued.  "I can't see the other's faces, but there's a profile of the guy that Willow set on fire, and it looks as though he's one too."

"I can't believe we didn't see it before."  Cordelia lamented.

Angel glanced at her as she peered over his shoulder.  "Do you know how off-putting that is?"  He asked her.  

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The X-Men stared at the media circus in front of them.

"That _has_ to be the house."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N 

Okay guys, that's it for this chapter.  

A **BIG** shout-out goes to **Spuffy the Witch** for the encouragement, **my anonymous 'Add' person** who kindly requests that I 'add', **Seiod**, for making me one of her favourite authors! *bounces up and down in glee*, **Obsidian** for realising that I'm evil, **The Sleepless Dreamer** for the encouragement and being the first person to make me one of his favourite authors, and **angeleyes** for always reviewing each chapter and continually finding nice things to say about them!  *hands out chocolate to everyone she's mentioned!*

I'll update soon!

Love, Kennie

P.S.  Hope you like the longer chapter!


	15. Day Three: The Darkest Hour is Before D...

Red

A/N

Tals:  Thank you for the kind review.  *grins*

Spuffy:  Witness more.  How are you?  You're one of my favourite reviewers, d'you know that?

Harry:  Thank you.  There's a while before we switch back to Willow I'm afraid.  See, we won't actually meet up with her again until she gets wherever it is she's going.  And since I can't tell you that…(Well, I can, but then I'd have to kill you)

(tars…@cit….e…) :  Witness me protecting your anonymity by not publishing your full email address… aren't I nice!  *lol*  *bounces up and down in joy from your lovely review*

Alex:  *lol*  Sorry.  I guess I just take as long as I take.  Maybe you should take lessons whilst you wait?  *grins and proffers chocolate*

The Sleepless Dreamer:  Yay!  Another of my favourite reviewers!  Darcy isn't in this one… yet!  *grins*

*Notes to herself* Hmmm,  obviously in a scarily good mood today.  Possibly getting better.  *notices all the people watching her*  I'm ill.  I _hate_ being ill.  And then I get all annoying and perky when I'm getting better.

Arekanderu:  _Little_????  That was a bloody long chapter for me!  Glad you're still enjoying it.

Lady Earth Goddess: You guessed!  I admit it… I'm demonic. *giggles*

SilverSea:  I think you're good at reviews.  Thanks for the positive words about the characterisation!

Lora Darcy:  Thank you.  And "Yay!"  I've hooked someone!!!!!  I'm looking at Chapter 6 right now.  You're right, but I remember why it's so different from my normal style.  I uploaded it from someone else's PC.  What I'm gonna do is stick it on my PC, rework it a bit and then replace the text.  Thanks for pointing it out!

And now dear friends…  Hey, don't run away…. I'm not _that_ scary!… On with the fic.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Day Three:  The Darkest Hour is Before Dawn

Inside Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted the mutant known as Storm poured over the morning papers with Charles Xavier himself.

"The story's on the front page of every paper."  Storm commented, all indecision now out of her system.

"Except The Daily Bugle."  The Professor reminded her.  "It's on page two.  Page one is about Spiderman again."

"What do we do?"  Storm asked him.

The Professor shrugged.  "We wait for Cyclops, Jean and Logan to report in.  However, I fear that no matter what course of action is taken, this will affect human-mutant relations for a long time to come."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Cyclops, Jean and Wolverine had outbid scores of journalists in order to rent a house opposite the media circus in Revello Drive.  From there, they maintained a close surveillance on the house in order to discover whether or not Wollow Roseburg was still living there.

No-one matching her description had yet put in an appearance.  A young blonde woman and a brunette teenager appeared to live there as well and a young brunette male in his early twenties had put in an appearance.  He had been joined after six the previous night by a woman who looked to be of the same age as him.  They were obviously a couple.  The X-Men had been unable to gain access to the back of the house and so hadn't been able to observe the comings and goings from the back of the house.

It was an obscene time in the morning, still dark outside, and Wolverine was currently on watch.  The Media Circus had long since scattered to return to their motel rooms for a few hours sleep before they reassembled again later that morning.

Wolverine hated keeping watch.  He'd much rather have been knocking the door down and grabbing the girl.  But Cyclops and Jean had convinced him not to.

Idly, he scanned the street, expecting to see nothing more than a few cats.  However, a small blonde figure was ducking into a garden a few doors along from the house he was supposed to be keeping watch on.

Wolverine slipped out of the open window and out onto a flat roof before climbing down and crossing the street.  Silently, he entered the garden of a house and climbed onto their flat roof to wait and see whether or not him hunch that the blonde figure would be heading that way was correct.

It was.

Wolverine observed the blonde woman who lived in the same house as Wollow Roseburg as she crossed through her neighbours garden's.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Buffy's Slayer sense was going haywire.  Someone was watching her.  Casually, she glanced around her, allowing her Slayer senses to do the rest.  It was then that she saw him.

Crouched up on the roof of one of her neighbours was a man.  For one crazy second she thought it might be Angel.  Then that thought faded and she was convinced it was Spike.  Finally, she realised that the man who was silently watching her had a distinctly different build to that of Angel or Spike.

She continued on to her own garden and once there turned and faced the man.

"So Stalker-boy, you wanna settle this?"  She called in a low voice.

Without making a sound, the man jumped down from the roof and made his way over to face her.

"Look."  He growled at her, his hands spread wide in a placatory gesture.  "I don't wanna fight you."

"Awww, too bad."  Buffy sympathised, getting into a fighting position.  "'Cause _I_ do!"

"I'd probably break you in half."  The man informed her helpfully.

Buffy laughed.  "Somehow, I doubt that."  She said, punching him on the jaw.  Her hand felt like she'd just broken every bone in it.  "Ow!"  She said involuntarily, cradling it.

The man shrugged.  "Told you."  He said.  "I don't want to fight you."

"Fine!"  Buffy exclaimed.  "Then what _do_ you want?"

"I want to talk to Wollow Roseburg."  He told her.

"You mean Willow Rosenburg."  Buffy informed him.  "She doesn't live here anymore."

"Where can I find her?"  The man asked.

"I wouldn't tell you even if I knew!"  Buffy exclaimed and then looked down at her injured hand.  When she looked back up, the man had disappeared.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Just before dawn arrived, a convertible pulled into Crawford Street and into the driveway of one of the houses there.


	16. Day Three: Dusk

Red

A/N

I've created a web community for people who want to be informed when I update.

As well as announcing when I've updated things I'll also be uploading each new chapter as I write it.  And you can post your own fanfic and stuff too!

The URL is http://groups.yahoo.com/group/fanficupdates/

Feel free to join.  First ten people get chocolate!  *lol*

On another note:

Harry:  re; the convertible.  No coconut for you mister!  Good guess though.  Read this chapter and find out who it was!

Spuffy:  Yay!  More reviews!  *bounces up and down happily*

Lady Earth Goddess:  That would be a scary person to meet down a dark alley… especially if she was on a sugar high.  *shudders at the thought* But you've never seen me on a _Diet Coke_ high have you?  Now that's something to run from!

Mx:  I'm glad you're enjoying the fic.  Which words don't work for you?  And are funny airs a good or a bad thing?

Talk to you all soon!

Love, Kennie

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Day Three:  Dusk

It was dark by the time that anything else significant happened across the street.

This time it was Jean's watch and she was observing the few remaining reporters hurriedly pack their stuff up for the night when two men walked up the path to the Rosenburg residence.

Some of the photographers snapped quick pictures of them before scurrying off to their motel rooms.

Curious as to the men's purpose at the house, Jean tentatively reached out to explore the men's minds, starting with the slightly shorter one that she sensed was in charge.

A split second later she screamed in horror.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Standing on Buffy's front porch, Angel and Wesley exchanged an uneasy look as one of Buffy's neighbours began to scream.  And scream.  And scream.

They were just beginning to contemplate leaving and coming back to try again another time when the front door opened.

"Angel!"  Dawn exclaimed, surprised to see the vampire standing on her doorstep.

Buffy leapt up from her seat in the living room and went to join Dawn at the door.

"Angel, what are you doing here?"  She asked, folding her arms.

Angel shuffled nervously.  "We heard about Willow."  He explained.  "When we couldn't get through on the phone, Cordelia, Wesley and I decided to drive down and find out what really happened."

"Cordelia's here?"  Dawn asked, glancing down the road.

"She's at the Crawford Street mansion."  Wesley told her.  "She didn't get much sleep last night so she's making up for it now."

Angel shot Wesley a grateful look for covering for him.  Although it was true that Cordelia was still at the mansion, she wasn't asleep.  Instead she was looking after Connor, something that she had protested at great length about; insisting that she wanted to see Willow too.

"Can we come in?"  Wesley asked as the neighbour continued to scream.

Buffy nodded and she and Dawn stepped back from the door to allow Angel and Wesley entry into their home.

As the small group settled on the comfy sofas and prepared to discuss the recent days events like civilised beings a furious hammering started on the front door.  The group exchanged uneasy glances.

"It's probably just more reporters."  Dawn suggested unconvincingly.

Buffy frowned.  "Whoever it is, is gonna wish that they'd picked another house."  She said grimly, getting up and going to the front door.

She yanked it open savagely, surprising the man who stood there, his hand arrested mid hammer.

"You!"  Buffy exclaimed.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

In the meantime, across the road, Jean had finally stopped screaming.  Now she lay on her bed, exhausted, as Cyclops gently sponged her brow.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

"Hello Blondie."  The man replied in return to Buffy's less-than-civil greeting.  He barged past her and into the living room where he turned to face her, paying no attention whatsoever to the other people gathered there.

"What the hell do you want?"  Buffy asked him, closing the door behind him and squaring up.

"What, you ain't got no manners?"  The man asked her, gesturing to the others in the room.  "Aren't you gonna introduce me?"

"Guys, this is Stalker-boy.  Stalker-boy these are the people that are going to help me kick your butt."  Buffy introduced before getting into a fighting position.

Wesley and Angel stood up; each drawing various weapons from their hiding places in their clothing and also got into fighting positions.

"I'll hold him down, you punch?"  Angel asked Buffy.

Buffy tilted her head wryly.  "Just like old times."  She agreed.

The man in the middle of Buffy's living room shrugged and three metal claws immediately protruded from each of his hands.

Buffy's jaw dropped.

"What did you do to Jean?"  The man growled.

"Who?"  Buffy asked.

"Jean.  One minute she's watchin' this place, the next she's screamin' her head off an I'm willin' t'bet that that's got somethin' t'do with these two."  The man said, nodding in Angel and Wesley's directions.

"Us?"  Wesley asked.

"You've had people watching me?"  Buffy asked at the same time, both disgusted and incredulous.

"I fail to see why you should think that we have something to do with your friend's illness."  Wesley continued.

"You really _are_ a stalker!"  Buffy also continued.

The man rolled his eyes.  "We haven't been watchin' _you_."  He told Buffy.  "We've been watchin' the house.  Tryin' to find Willow Rosenburg."  He turned to Wesley.  "Jean's telepathic."  He informed him.  "She probably tried t'read your minds when you arrived.  An one of you did something to her!"

Wesley and Angel glanced at one another, dismayed.

"What kind of demon are you?"  Dawn asked quietly from the corner she had retreated to when it looked like a fight was about to erupt.

"Huh?"  The man asked.

"Dawn!"  Buffy admonished.  "You know what a rude question that is to ask!"

"Demon?"  The man asked.  "I'm a mutant!"  

"What do you want with Willow?"  Angel asked.

"How 'bout I tell you when you tell me what you did to Jean?"  The man said roughly.

"They didn't do anything!"  Buffy defended Wesley and Angel.

"That's nice Blondie.  Why don't you sit down and be quiet whilst your friends answer?"  The man told her.

Buffy's jaw once again dropped, this time in amazement that the man could have the nerve to talk to her like that.  Her eyes narrowed and she pulled back and punched him, forgetting the consequences of the last time she had done that.  The man's claws retracted and he punched Buffy back.

"I told you once."  He said to Buffy, as she lay sprawled on the floor, shocked that anyone could knock her down with only one punch.  "I don't wanna fight you.  That doesn't mean I won't."

Buffy gingerly picked herself off of the carpet, nursing her jaw.  Silently, she sat down on the sofa.

The man turned to Angel "Okay bub, you got five seconds to tell me what you did to Jean or else."  He threatened.

"Or else what?"  Dawn asked, curious.

The man's claws came out again.

Dawn backed up against the wall.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Anya looked over at Xander and rolled her eyes.  "That's the sixteenth time you've checked your email in the last two hours.  Have you entered a competition to win money?"

Xander shook his head, not averting his gaze from the monitor as he scanned the contents of his inbox.  "No," he said.  "I'm waiting for Will to email me."

Anya frowned.  "What if she tries to call?"  She asked.

Xander turned the computer off.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The man was grinning.  It wasn't a nice grin.  You got the distinct impression that he didn't use it much.

"Let me get this straight."  He said.  "Vampires are real?"  The group nodded.  "And the reason Jean couldn't read your mind is that you're a vampire?"  The group nodded again.  The man's grin grew wider.  "Nice try."  He told them, before beginning to move purposefully towards Angel, his claws out.

Angel vamped out just as Wesley, Dawn and Buffy jumped on the man to keep him away from Angel.  The four of them toppled to the ground, destroying Buffy's new coffee table on the way down.

"You know, for a pacifist, you sure seem to like violence."  Buffy told the man conversationally as she pinned him.  

Within a matter of minutes, the group had the man trussed up like a chicken, making sure that there was no way that he could use his claws to cut the bonds.

"Now."  Angel said, still in game face.  "What were you saying about vampires not being real?"

There was another knock at the door.  Buffy rolled her eyes and walked out of the room to answer it.

A man and woman, clad all in leather, were stood there.  The man was wearing strange sunglasses.

"Is Wolverine here?"  The woman asked.

Buffy frowned.  "Don't know any Wolverine, sorry."  She told them.  "I know a Stalker-boy if that's any help?"

"Jean?"  The man called from the living room.

The two new strangers brushed past Buffy and into her house.  Buffy closed the door and followed them into her living room.

"You know."  She announced.  "I'm getting really fed up with people doing that."

The new man untied Wolverine as the woman turned to Buffy.

"I'm Jean Grey and this is Cyclops."  She told her.  "I'm sorry if Wolverine caused any trouble."

Wolverine stood up, rubbing his wrists.  "They fed me some cock and bull story about vampires."  He growled.

Jean reached out into Buffy's mind.  Flashes of Buffy's life drifted past her. "It's true."  She told Wolverine.

"Alright.  We've answered your questions."  Angel told them fiercely.  "Now it's time you answered ours.  What do you want with Willow?"

The three strangers exchanged a glance and Jean's eyes glazed over slightly before she nodded to the other two.

"We're mutants."  Cyclops told them.  "We were sent here to find her."

"Why?"  Wesley demanded to know.  "How could Willow interest you?"

"She's a powerful mutant."  Jean explained.  "And she killed a lot of men.  We were assigned to find her and determine whether or not we should hand her over to the authorities, take her back with us or…"

"Or kill her."  Dawn finished for her.

Jean nodded silently.

"Don't be ridiculous."  Angel said.  "Willow isn't a mutant."

"Uh, actually she is."  Buffy told him.  "She left us a note."

"When?"  Wesley asked.

"When she left."  Dawn told him.

"Willow left?"  Angel asked, incredulous.  "When?  Where did she go?"

"She left the night of the attack."  Buffy informed him.  "She didn't say where she was going, just that she was and that she's a mutant."

"Since when?"

"Since High School."  Buffy told the brooding vampire.  "Ever since she got locked in the boiler room and the janitor rescued her.  She said that you came close to finding out a couple of years ago."

Angel thought back, struggling to remember when he could have come close to figuring out that Willow was a mutant.  Suddenly the memory came back stronger than ever.  Thanksgiving; two years ago.  Willow's eyes had flashed silver.  Why?  Dimly he remembered that she had been carrying something.  It had fallen.  What was it?  Coffee?  Coffee was hot.  Why hadn't they been splashed?  Had Willow done something to her coffee so that it wouldn't splash them?

"You're not killing Willow."  He told the group of mutants.  "It wasn't her fault."

"Hang on bub."  Wolverine growled.  "She killed people."

"They were vampires!"  Dawn insisted.  "_They_ were going to kill people.  _Willow_ stopped them."

The mutants raised their eyebrows, not sure whether or not to believe the others. 

"Look."  Wesley said, offering them a copy of a newspaper and pointing to a photograph.  "The man in the far left.  Look at his face."

Cyclops, Jean and Wolverine studied the picture intently.  Slowly, Cyclops nodded.  

Angel released a breath he hadn't even been aware that he was holding.  "What are you going to do?"  He asked.

"If you don't mind, we'll hang around for a couple of days.  See if she contacts you."  Cyclops told him.

"And if she does?"  Buffy asked, wondering if she'd have to break out the good weapons.

"Then we'll go after her and offer her a choice.  Our help and training so she can learn how to harness her power or we'll just leave her alone."

Buffy nodded.  "You can stay."  She grudgingly allowed.  "But I wouldn't recommend going outside after dark."


	17. Arrival

RED

A/N

Okay guys, I'm really sorry.I didn't realise that this chapter hadn't loaded correctly.Here is the chapter proper.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Arrival:

Willow stepped off of the bus and quickly made her way out of the bus station.She wandered the streets mindlessly for a while before snapping herself out of her self-imposed reverie.

In order to survive she would need money.

Willow found herself an out of the way alley and ducked down it.She focused on a twenty dollar bill, her hand outstretched. The pressure built in her ears and then popped.She was holding a note in her hand.

She held up to the light.Not perfect.Clearly a fake.

Willow shrugged and threw the note away.This time she focused on a bar of gold.Gold was good.Gold could be exchanged for money and was extremely hard to mess up.

This time, when her ears popped, she was unprepared for the weight and the newly minted bar of gold rolled off of her hand and fell onto the floor.

Willow sighed, picked the bar of gold up and stowed it carefully away in her bag.Now all she needed to do was find a bank or something that would exchange the gold for money.

*

Willow left the bank, her money carefully stowed in her bag, confident in her new identity.

She was no longer Willow Rosenburg, murdering mutant.Now she was Rowan Weaver, unemployed, homeless bum with a hell of a lot of cash in her bag.

Rowan was an identity she'd had created a long time ago for fun.Xander had challenged her to create an entirely new person one day and she'd just hopped on the computer, hacked in to all the different places and created an entirely new persona from scratch.Rowan had an entire life of her own.When Willow had had to leave Sunnydale, Rowan had sprung to mind as an ideal new identity.She already had most of the ID she needed.All she needed now was an actual job and her cover would be complete.It wasn't as though she even looked like Willow Rosenburg any more.Her hair, so easy to cut for a normal person but harder to grow, was now six inches longer - thanks to her mutant abilities - and elegantly swept back.And it was brown.She had blue eyes, courtesy of contacts, always wore heels to disguise her actual height and dressed completely differently.

Actually, right now she needed an apartment more than she needed a job.The money from the gold would sustain her for a long time, but she also needed shelter.

*

Okay, maybe the money from the gold wouldn't sustain her for as long as she had thought.Who knew that apartment prices in New York were so high?And she couldn't exactly share because her powers were still happening at random.So she was now the proud renter of an apartment in the Village.And all she had to do was find a job.


	18. Some Time Later

RED  
A/N  
Okay, so a lot of people were disappointed with the lack of words in the last Chapter. There is a reason for that. It was three in the morning. I'd been up for over 48 hours. I was tired. It wasn't the best chapter in the world, but I stand by it as it got a lot of stuff set up in a few words.  
And I was tipsy too.  
Spiteful Hope: I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! I hope that I manage to keep that pace up and keep you interested! *grins* I tried Chapter 10 on my PC and it worked fine. Perhaps if you try it again it might work.  
RedPat35: I hope you like this chapter.  
The Unicorn: So it was short. Gimme a break here. I'm co-writing, co-starring and co-directing a play and I'm also in charge of the rehearsals, costumes and publicity. I have a lot on my plate at the moment.  
Para-chan: It was short I know, but it's got a lot of information in it if that helps any?  
On with the fic! *grin*  
ANOTHER A/N  
Okay, this is the third time I've uploaded this chapter. The two previous times, ff.net have frelled it up, missing out lots of paragraphs. Each time, it's been a different section that has disappeared. If it does it again, I'm going to track down the people who run ff.net, get on a plane and go kick their respective arses!  
That said (and explained), welcome to the fic!  
YET ANOTHER A/N  
Getting pissed with ff.net now. This chapter has been uploaded in a different format from the previous chapters in the hope that it'll prevent it from screwing up. Again.  
Presenting the (hopefully) not screwed up fic!  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Buffy watched the X-Men's jet take off, Xander and Dawn beside her, waving frantically.  
The X-Men had stayed in Sunnydale for as long as possible, but had eventually been called back to the school they ran for other mutants in Westchester, New York. Before they left however, Jean had given Buffy a telephone number she could either call if Willow got in touch or pass on to her.  
As for Angel, Cordelia and Wesley, they were in the middle of a big case and had left the day after they had arrived. But Angel had promised to do his best to track Willow down.  
Buffy doubted if anyone would find Willow. It had been two weeks since she had left and she still hadn't contacted them. And she could always use her powers to grow a new face or something.  
But on the plus side, the media furore had died down to a quite hum. Willow's name only ranked a paragraph on page eleven every other day now.  
Nope, Buffy thought as her feet turned homewards, Willow was deep underground. She'd be as far away from anything remotely resembling a newspaper as possible.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
"Weaver!" A voice bellowed. "Have you finished with page eleven?"  
"Yes Mr Edwards, sir!" Willow yelled back to her editor.  
"Then where the hell is it!" He demanded.  
"It's in your inbox!" Willow shouted in response, turning her attention back to the article on Spiderman she was researching.  
She'd managed to dig a slightly less than pathetic photograph out of the newspaper's archives, but The Daily Bugle got all the best pictures and they weren't sharing.  
Vaguely, Willow noticed The Herald's top reporter, Paul Stevens, entering Mr Edwards' inner sanctum.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
"What is it Steven?" James Edwards, Editor-in-Chief of the Herald asked.  
"That article the new girl's researching."  
"The one about Spiderman? You want it?" Edwards frowned.  
"Yeah." Paul Stevens smiled. "But with a slight difference."  
"What?" Edwards asked, suspicious.  
"Well, we're always running articles about Spiderman but we never have solid facts and we never have a decent picture. The Bugle has the pictures. How do they get them? Find out who takes them and you have both facts and pictures. I want to do an article on Spiderman's photographer." Stevens said, and held his breath. This was an article he'd been longing to do for a while, but it was the first time he'd ever broached the subject with Edwards.  
"We'll run it as a companion piece to a regular Spiderman article." Edwards gave his approval. "How are you gonna find out who the photographer is?"  
Stevens shrugged. "I figured I'd hang around the Bugle for a while."  
"They know out reporters too well." Edwards told him, shaking his head. "For this you'll need someone they won't recognise to do the legwork."  
"Who?"  
"Weaver."  
"The new girl?" Paul Stevens was incredulous. "She's only been here a week!"  
Edwards shrugged. "She's got talent."  
"You aren't pulling a Lois Lane and Clark Kent on me are you?" Stevens asked suspiciously.  
"Now Steven, you should know that you haven't got the legs to be Lois!" Edwards told him with a grin.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
Willow looked up from her computer to find Paul Stevens standing over her. He threw a file onto her desk.  
"New assignment for you Weaver." He told her. "Edwards' orders."  
Willow opened the folder with an apprehensive glance at Stevens.  
"Do you have to hang over me?" She asked.  
"Actually yes, you'll be assisting me."  
Paul Stevens stifled a grin when Weaver's eyes widened and shot to the page in front of her. He had to admit that the new girl was going to be fun to work with.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
Professor Xavier exited Cerebro with a heavy heart.  
"Any luck?" A voice asked.  
Xavier shook his head, heading for the lift. Jean placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and Xavier covered it with his own.  
"You'll find her." Jean told him gently as they entered the lift.  
"I don't understand." Xavier told her. "There are times when she seems so close, as though I could reach out and touch her and then she just slides away. It's like she has a barrier up or something."  
The lift doors opened and Xavier and Jean stepped out into the main part of the school.  
"Well, she was a witch." Jean offered.  
Xavier sighed and then his attention was caught by the approach of Elizabeth Banning.  
The young mutant moved through the crowd with her head down and shoulders hunched, clutching her books. The other students kept a wide berth around her and Xavier was reminded of Rogue when she had first arrived.  
But Elizabeth had been at the school for five years.  
Xavier reached out and touched her mind. Instantly he was overwhelmed with thoughts and feeling and was forced to snap the link shut immediately.  
The contents of Elizabeth's extraordinary mind kept coming, the slower speed of his mind backing her thoughts up in his.  
Abruptly the thoughts ended and Xavier was left with a vague sense of indecision and an insatiable curiosity about the world. His well-trained mind suppressed the feelings.  
"I worry about Elizabeth Banning." He told Jean. "See if you can help her."  
Jean nodded.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
Angel knocked on the door. A middle-aged housewife answered, her hair bound up in a scarf and a smudge of paint on her cheek.  
"Can I help you?" She asked.  
Angel smiled reassuringly. "I understand that you recently visited your mother." He said.  
"That's right." The woman confirmed, frowning and wrapping her arms around herself. "Is anything wrong?"  
"Oh no ma'am." Angel assured her. "I was just wondering if you'd like to record a singing telegram for her. It's free."  
The woman smiled. "Sure. Would you like to come in?"  
"Oh, we can do it right here ma'am." Angel told her, brandishing a microphone.  
The woman launched into song...  
... Four ear-splittingly awful verses of The Drifters later, the door finally closed.  
Angel shuddered. "I'm gonna have nightmares." He said. "Please tell me it'll be worth it."  
"Angel baby, nothing'll ever be worth that torture." Lorne told him from his position around the corner. "I need a drink."  
"Was Willow on the bus?" Angel asked.  
"She was." Lorne affirmed. "Now about that drink..."  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________  
Willow grabbed some files and tried to look as though she was working. Gradually she worked her way over to a vacant computer terminal.  
Sitting down in front of it, she quickly bypassed the security protocols and hacked into the computer's mainframe files.  
Ten minutes later, she had what she needed. The name, address and telephone number of the guy who took that Spiderman pictures. One Peter Parker.  
"Parker!" A voice barked.  
Willow jumped and looked around.  
"What have you got for me?" The voice continued in the same tone.  
"Uh, I've got a couple of shots from that bank robbery last night." Another voice replied.  
Willow looked at the person speaking. He wasn't much older than her! He certainly wasn't old enough to be out of college, let alone taking incredible pictures of Spiderman.  
Willow knew that she was supposed to report back to Paul Stevens when she had the information that he wanted, but she also knew that he was expecting it to take her at least the rest of today. Quickly formulating a plan, Willow slipped out of the Bugle offices and waited patiently outside in the busy street for Peter Parker. 


	19. Birth of Yet Another Superhero: Part 1 o...

RED  
A/N  
Again, another big apology for the way ff.net screwed up the last couple of uploads. I've emailed them about it and can only suggest that you guys do the same. Hopefully then they'll actually do something about it.  
Oh, by the way, the SAS v SEALS exercise mentioned is actually from real life. And the SAS kicked butt!!!!!!  
On with the fic!  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Willow followed Peter Parker to a New York University. There, determined to get as much information about him as possible to hand over to Paul Stevens, she sat in on a couple of his classes.  
He seemed to be a big science fan. All of the classes he attended were incredibly advanced and she only just managed to understand most of what was being said.  
But Peter Parker appeared extremely bright, which only made his affiliation with Spiderman all the more puzzling.  
Absently, Willow played with her hair whilst she listened as Dr Connors expounded on the field of science, trying to look her utmost as though she was paying attention to him, and not Peter Parker.  
Her hair felt stiff, a by-product of the mousse she used to darken it to an ordinary brown. As soon as her hair got wet, it returned to her natural colour, red.  
Willow frowned. She would have to do something about that soon, but she was reluctant to use home hair dye, not knowing much about it, and she certainly didn't want to go to a hairdresser to have it professionally done. She had tried changing the colour using her powers, but they didn't seem to work that way.   
She shrugged; it was a problem she could worry about in the privacy of her apartment. Right now, she had a job to do.  
  
Peter gathered his books up and left Dr Connors' class. Ahead of him, the new girl he had noticed appeared to be having trouble with her books. As he watched, her grip fumbled and they tumbled to the floor a few metres ahead of him.  
Peter rushed to help her.  
  
Willow looked up as Peter Parker approached her and smiled at him. Her ploy of materialising a few books and then dropping them in front of him had worked. It looked as though he was about to help her and that was a perfect opportunity to get to know him.  
  
Peter gathered up the new girl's books, not noticing that the pages inside were blank, and handed them over to her. They stood together.  
"Thanks." She said quietly.  
"No problem." Peter shrugged. "I remember what it was like to be new here. You just transferred?"  
The girl nodded. "The classes are really advanced. I didn't understand most of what Dr Connors was talking about."  
"You'll catch up in no time." Peter told her confidently.  
The girl shrugged and looked away. "I'm not so sure." She said.  
"Well, if you'd like, I could give you some extra tuition?" Peter offered.  
The girl smiled brilliantly. Peter was taken aback. That one smiled made a massive difference to the girl's appearance. Before she had been attractive, but only reasonably so. Now she was stunning.  
"I'd like that." The girl said, still smiling.  
Peter nodded absently. "Uh, good. I'm Peter by the way. Peter Parker."  
The girl offered her hand to him. "W-" She cut herself off. Whatever she was about to say had been bitten back. "Weaver." She told him firmly. "Rowan Weaver."  
"I was gonna go grab a coffee." Peter told her. "You want to come with and we'll get started?"  
Rowan nodded.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Xander frowned and punched the computer tower, muttering obscenities at it.  
"Xander, why are you trying to hurt the computer?" Anya asked.  
"Because Willow isn't going to email, she isn't going to call and she isn't going to write!" Xander said, punching the tower again. "And it isn't co-operating!"  
"What are you doing?" Anya asked, walking across the floor to look over Xander's shoulder.  
"I'm trying to find her." Xander explained. "But Willow's the one that can hack into computers not me."  
"Move over." Anya told him, and reached down to the keyboard.  
Two seconds later she had the google.com webpage up.  
"What am I looking for?" She asked Xander.  
Xander sighed impatiently. "You won't find anything."  
"Well, what did you do?" Anya wanted to know.  
Xander shrugged. "I tried to hack into the electoral roll."  
Anya rolled her eyes. "Well this is simpler. Willow taught it to me. What were you looking for?"  
Xander pouted, unreasonably hurt that Willow hadn't taught it to him instead. "Willow once created a person. I wanted to see if that person had done anything lately."  
"If she has then it's probably Willow masquerading as her." Anya followed the train of thought to its logical conclusion. "What was the name of the person?"  
"Rowan Weaver." Xander told her.  
Anya typed it into the search engine and viewed the 23,400 results with dismay.  
"I'll look." She informed Xander. "Make me a drink."  
Xander pouted again, before shifting out of the computer seat and slouching off to the kitchen.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Willow exited the coffee shop and waved goodbye to Peter. She headed off in the opposite direction until she saw him disappear around a corner and then she took a sharp u-turn and followed him.  
Whilst she walked, she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialled in a number.  
"Hello, Mr Stevens?" She asked, when that selfsame man answered his cell phone.  
"Who is this?" Paul Stevens demanded.  
"It's me. Rowan Weaver." Willow told him.  
"What is it Weaver?" He asked.  
"I just wanted you to know that I'm still looking for information on the photographer." Willow told him, glad that he couldn't see her blush.   
She hated lying about little things. Lying about where she was on the night she helped avert the apocalypse she could do no problem, but when it came to the little lies could she do it? Like hell she could!  
"I'll be in tomorrow with the information." She told him, blushing even more furiously.  
She rounded the corner and spotted Peter in the distance. She upped her speed.  
"Are you sure you'll have it by then?" Mr Stevens asked.  
"Absolutely!" Willow told him. "I'll talk to you tomorrow Mr Stevens."  
"Goodnight Weaver." Mr Stevens told her, cutting the connection.  
Willow stowed the cell phone in her purse and slowed down a little. She was a little too close to Peter for her comfort.  
Suddenly he ducked down an alley. Willow frowned and regretted slowing down, immediately speeding back up.  
By the time she reached the alley however, there was no sign of Peter Parker.  
There was however, one of Spiderman's trademark web ropes hanging from a tall building at the other end of the alley.  
  
Willow ran down the alley and burst out at the other end. She glanced up and down the street. Still no sign of Peter. He was probably with Spiderman taking photographs. So all she had to do was find Spiderman. Yeah, like that wasn't hard!  
She scanned the skies desperately. There!  
Disappearing around the corner of a skyscraper was a flash of blue and red.  
Willow jumped into a taxi.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Peter Parker swung lazily around Manhattan, blissfully unaware of the taxi that was following his every move.  
Well, perhaps not his every move. It was extremely difficult to keep up with Spiderman after all.  
Suddenly, Peter noticed a man swipe a woman's purse. The woman was busy staring in a shop window and hadn't even noticed. He sighed and swooped down, snatching the purse out of the would-be mugger's hand and shooting web fluid at the man until he was completely wrapped up in it.  
That completed, he swung back and deposited the purse by the unsuspecting woman's feet, leaving the man on the pavement for the cops to pick up.  
That completed, he resumed his haphazard journey.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Willow gawped as Spiderman swung from building to building. It was the first time she had actually seen him in real life and she was immensely surprised at his presence.  
Maybe it was the costume, but he definitely appeared larger than life. In fact she was kind of reminded of Buffy.  
Mind you, it had been a definitely surprise when he had retrieved that woman's purse and given it back to her without even expecting any kind of repatriation.  
In fact, Willow hadn't even noticed the mugging take place. It had been the cabdriver who had pointed it out.  
Willow had managed to find one of the rare people of New York who actually liked Spiderman. Apparently, Spiderman had saved the cabdriver from a bad beating at the hands of some thugs who had wanted his days takings a few months ago.  
Ever since then the cabbie had been one of Spiderman's most devoted fans, even attempting to set up a Spiderman fan club on the Internet. So far it had had limited success, but the cabdriver had furnished Willow with all of the relevant information about it.  
She had made a note of the URL, thinking that it might be useful in conducting research at a later point.  
Willow shook herself out of her reverie and focused on Spiderman.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Anya gave up, bookmarking the page she was on and resolving to go back to it later. Not even for her beloved Xander would she trawl through any more pages about Rowan County or Rowan Atkinson in The Lion King.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Willow sat in the cab watching as Spiderman sat on the top of a skyscraper, looking down at the people below. In front of her, the cabdriver, whose name was Eddie, puffed leisurely on a cigarette.  
"Those things'll kill you, you know." Willow told him.  
Eddie shrugged. "Meh." He said succinctly.  
They sat in silence, contemplating Spiderman for a little longer. Eventually, Eddie finished his cigarette and tossed it out of the window, reaching for the radio at the same time.  
His favourite radio station came on in the middle of a news bulletin about a hostage situation down at the docks.  
"Do you think he knows?" Willow asked.  
"Mustn't." Eddie said. "Otherwise he'd already be down there."  
"Well how's he gonna find out if he's sitting up there?" Willow reasoned.  
Eddie looked at her. "He ain't." He frowned. "I got an idea."   
_____________________________________________________________________  
Peter frowned as he noticed another man grab another purse. This time the woman was more alert than the first three times and screamed her head off.  
He slipped off of the building and let himself fall for a split second before firing his webbing.  
He came to a graceful halt in front of the mugger.  
"Didn't your mother ever teach it's rude to go through other people's bags?" He asked before punching the man in the jaw and retrieving the bag.  
The man opened his mouth to speak and Peter promptly gagged him with webbing before tying him up.  
"No excuses." He told the man, picking him up and swinging over to where the woman still stood. "I want to hear you apologise to the lady and promise to never do it again."  
"Let him go!" The woman demanded.  
Peter looked at her for the first time and gaped. It was Rowan. That he hadn't been expecting. He leapt up onto the side of the building, still holding the mugger and Rowan's bag.  
"Uh, no." He told her.  
"Spiderman you don't understand." Rowan said, a thread of desperation running through her voice. "We staged the mugging so you'd come down."  
"Now why would you want to do that?" Peter asked sarcastically.  
Rowan stamped her foot, her eyes flashing. "Because there's a hostage situation down at the docks!" She yelled at him.  
Peter dropped the fake mugger and Rowan's bag and took to the air.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Willow groaned as Eddie landed on top of her. She squirmed out from underneath him and hunted frantically through her bag for the knife she had always carried there ever since she had been a senior at Sunnydale High.  
She sliced through Eddie's bonds and ripped the webbing from his mouth. Along with a lot of his moustache. She winced.  
"Sorry Eddie." She apologised.  
Eddie beamed at her. "Spiderman hit me!" He crowed.  
Willow rolled her eyes. "Can we please get to the docks?" She asked.  
_____________________________________________________________________  
Peter landed softly on the roof of the besieged building and silently made his way over to the access door. He ripped it open and stepped inside.  
There were no shouts, no screams, no gunshots. That made sense, according to the news bulletins, the hostages were being held two floors down.  
He made for the nearest air conditioning vent.  
  
Willow surveyed the outside of the building with dismay. It was surrounded by the press and the police. She had been hoping to be able to sneak in somehow, but that was clearly going to be impossible.  
She'd wanted to see how Peter got the photographs!  
Willow racked her memory, trying to come up with a way into the building. Suddenly she was hit by a distant memory of Xander arguing with Giles about whether the SAS or the SEALS were better. She seemed to recall Giles mentioning a training exercise when the SAS had had to liberate a bunch of fake hostages from the SEALS. The SAS had apparently crawled through a sewer and emerged in a bathroom.  
Well, she was no stranger to sewers after a lifetime spent in Sunnydale.  
"I'll be back soon." She told Eddie.  
"Who's gonna pay your fare if you're not?" He asked.  
"Bill it to The Herald." She told him. "And tell them that Weaver said the photographer is Peter Parker. Got that?"   
"'The photographer is Peter Parker'." Eddies repeated faithfully.  
Willow grinned and ran to the nearest manhole.  
  
Three miles of ventilation later and Peter was lost.  
"Nice going Spidey." He chided himself. "They'll have to rescue you before they rescue the hostages."  
He grinned underneath his mask. "Who am I kidding?" He asked himself. "They'll probably trade me for the hostages!"  
  
Willow was pissed off. Actually, she had also been pissed on, but that was a whole other and extremely disgusting story.  
She poked her head up out of the Willow-sized hole she'd created in the basement floor and cautiously climbed up.  
When she was standing in the middle of the basement, she chanced a look down at herself.  
The terrorists would probably give in long before she actually reached them thanks to her stench.  
Willow thanks whichever God was currently listening that the building was actually a gym and made her way as stealthily as possible upstairs and hopefully to the nearest available locker room.  
  
Peter was still lost and he had a worrying feeling that he'd gone down more than two floors. And was it just his imagination or was the air getting steamier?  
  
Willow dumped her clothes and her purse in an empty locker and wondered what she could wear. Then it hit her. She was a mutant. She could create something to wear.  
She lifted off the protective amulet that served the dual purpose of protecting her from anyone trying to find her and subduing her still somewhat uncontrollable powers and allowed her imagination free rein.  
Five minutes later she was wishing she hadn't done so.  
She was clothed in what was probably the most outlandish outfit anyone had ever worn, complete with mask.  
And as if that wasn't bad enough, the quick shower she'd allowed herself had caused her hair to revert back to its normal red.  
She took a deep breath and prepared to change her outfit.  
"Hey!" A voice said.  
Willow whipped around to see Spiderman sitting on the ceiling beside an open air vent.  
"I got here first." He continued, his amusement clearly audible in his voice. "I call dibs on the rescue."  
Willow looked in the mirror again.  
She looked like a superhero, she realised with a shock.  
  
Peter grinned as he watched the costumes female check her appearance in the mirror.  
It appeared that all women, everywhere were the same. They couldn't do something without checking their make up first. He just hoped that whoever it was, was on his side.  
  
Willow grinned and decided to go along with it. She might as well do some good whilst she was in hiding!  
"Haven't you ever heard of share and share alike, Spiderman?" She asked.  
"Well yeah, but you're hardly sharing fairly." Spiderman pointed out.  
Willow frowned. "What do you mean?"  
"You know my name, but I don't know yours." He said.  
Willow panicked. What should she call herself? The Moleculeator? Ms Atom? Perhaps she should style herself after The Bugle's favourite description of Spiderman and simply call herself the Menace? That would probably save J. Jonah Jameson a great deal of trouble when it came up to thinking of a name for her.  
"I don't have one yet." She admitted.  
  
"Ahhh." Peter said wisely. "New huh? Well that would explain why I haven't seen you around before."  
The woman gave him a saccharine-sweet smile. "Whilst I hate to break up our touching meet and greet." She said. "I can't help but feel that there's probably something better we could be doing with our time."  
Peter grinned and dropped to the floor.  
"Never let it be said that I dared to argue with a woman." He said, crossing to the door.  
It opened before he could reach it however and he sprang back up to the ceiling.  
One of the hostages entered and the door closed and locked behind her.  
  
The woman stopped, clearly terrified at the sight of Spiderman and Willow.  
Willow smiled reassuringly.  
"Don't worry." She soothed the woman in a low tone of voice. "We're here to save you."  
"What floor are we on?" Spiderman asked.  
Willow frowned. "You don't know?"  
"I got lost!" The costumed superhero said defensively.  
"Why is it that men never stop to ask for directions?" Willow asked the hostage.  
"Perhaps because women can't give them?" Spiderman said.  
He dropped back down to the floor, picked the hostage up and the two of them disappeared into the open air vent. A second later Spiderman dropped back down.  
"Wait there until either we or the police come." He told the hostage.  
"Are you ready?" Willow asked, crossing to the door.  
"Lets dance." Spiderman said.  
Willow knocked on the door and the terrorist on the other side made the mistake of unlocking and opening it.  
Two seconds later, he was on the floor, cocconed in Spiderman's webbing and his gun had mysteriously disappeared into thin air.  
Willow and Spiderman dumped him into the locker room and closed the door.  
"The hostages are on the next floor up." Willow informed Spiderman and the two of them headed for the stairs.  
  
Peter looked down at his unexpected accomplice from the wall of the stairwell.  
"So, I'm guessing you know what I can do." He commented. "What can you do?"  
The woman smiled mysteriously and her green eyes danced merrily behind her half-mask.  
"Well, for one thing, I can fight." She told him.  
Peter frowned. It sounded like she might become more of a hinderance than a help.  
"Anything else?" He asked.  
"You'll find out." She said, not faltering in climbing the stairs.  
"Show me." Peter said, worried now.  
Now it was her turn to frown. "If you insist." She said.  
She held out her hand and instantly her fingernails grew about eleven inches and turned to metal.  
"I don't suppose you're related to anyone called Wolverine?" Peter asked, trying not to sound impressed.  
She laughed and her fingernails returned to normal. "I don't think so."  
They reached the next floor and Peter went to kick the door down.  
  
"Wait." Willow said, stopping Spiderman and changing the molecules of the wooden door into oxygen.  
"Impressive." Spiderman commented nonchalently.  
"Thank you." Willow said, smiling as she walked through the doorframe.  
  
Peter's spider sense went haywire as the woman moved through the doorway, but he was too late to call out a warning. 


	20. Birth of Yet Another Superhero: Part 2 o...

RED

A/N

Hi guys!  

Well, it's official!  This story now has over **100** reviews!!!  ONE HUNDRED!!!!!!!!!!  That's an awfully long and loud WOOHOO from me there folks!

I finally think I'm beginning to get the hang of Spiderman's one-liners.  Let me know what you guys think 'kay?

Paru-chan:  I take it you liked?  *lol*  :-D

Arekanderu:  Quick enough for ya?  :-)

SpitefulHope:  Corny lines are the coolest!  Except, of course, when they're blatantly lame.  Such as "Do you know what happens to a Toad when it gets stuck by lightening?  The same thing that happens to everything else!"  *yawn*  Oh Joss, how could you do that!  On the plus side, "Prove it."  "You're a dick."  "Okay."  kinda redeemed him.

Angeleyes:  Voila!

ColdFang:  I'm glad!

Dark Topaz:  Two reviews begging me to write more?  *blushes*  Yay!  And witness!  Moreage!  *grins*

Anyway, that's about all I got to say this time round.  Talk to you all soon!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

…Spiderman pushed Willow from behind a split second before the gunshot rang out.  Willow crashed into the opposite corridor wall and fell to the floor.

She shook her head to clear it, and then looked for the gunman.

His finger was tightening on the trigger…

Peter grabbed the woman with his webbing and yanked her back through the open doorway as a second shot rang out.

"Are you okay?"  He asked her.

"I'm fine."  She replied and closed her eyes for a brief second.  "I hate guns."  She told him.

Peter smiled, as she lay sprawled at his feet.  "I could get used to this."  He commented.

Willow frowned and then realised what a compromising position she was in.  She jumped to her feet.

"I haven't heard any more gunshots."  She pointed out.  "And he hasn't come looking for us."

Willow and Spiderman looked at one another and then quickly poked their heads around the corner.

The gunman was dead.  His gun had backfired and killed him.  

Willow felt sick.  It was the first human being she had ever killed.  It didn't matter that she hadn't meant to.  Perhaps if she had paid more attention to Xander, she would have known what would happen when she sealed the barrel of his gun.  Everything that the newspapers were saying about her was true.

Willow began to sink deeper and deeper into her guilt.  Given a few more seconds, she probably would have sunk deep enough not to notice what happened next.  Which was why it was fortunate that it happened when it did…

The man jumped back up with a snarl and straightaway Peter could see that his face wasn't normal.  It was all bumpy and was it just his imagination or did the man have fangs?  Actual, honest to God, fangs?  

He leaped up onto the ceiling and examined the man from his vantage point.

Nope.  It wasn't his imagination.

"I'm sorry."  He said to the man.  "But I'm afraid you can't resurrect without a permit.  Can I see your papers?"

The man growled… actually _growled_, and leapt at Peter.  He missed by about a foot.

"Aw, c'mon!"  Peter grinned.  "You can do better than that."  He held out an imaginary bone, just beyond the man's reach.  "Here doggy.  Good boy!  C'mon boy, you can do it.  Beg!"

The man gave an almighty leap and wrapped his fingers around Peter's wrist, using his weight to yank him off of the ceiling.

Peter landed with a bone-jarring thump.

"Ow."  He commented.  "Note to self.  No more tormenting bad guys."

The man grinned and leant down towards Peter's neck before exploding into dust.

When the dust settled Peter made out the figure of the woman helping him, standing in the middle of the corridor, tapping something on her palm.

He sprang to his feet and opened his mouth.

"Vampire."  The woman informed him before he had a chance to ask.  "Bog standard villain where I come from."

"Transylvania?"

The woman laughed.  "I'm willing to bet that the rest of these guys are vampires, so we're probably going to need more stakes."  She tossed the piece of wood she carried to Peter and glanced down at her hands.

Peter's eyes widened as two more pieces of wood appeared in her hands. "Ready to kick some demon butt?"  The woman asked before striding away.

Peter look down at the pieces of wood he held in his hands.  _Vampires_?  But still, with the dust and all.  Talking of dust…

"Hey!"  He called, hurrying after the woman.  "One question."

"Shoot."  The woman said, still walking.

"Is this dust in any way hazardous to my health?"

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Angel settled his son down in the crib just as a knock came at the door.

"Come on in."  He called, tucking the covers more securely around Connor.  "It's okay."  He told the small baby.  "Shh.  I'll get you some food.  You're hungry, aren't you?"  He nodded to Wesley who had just entered and walked over to the kitchenette.  "Have a nice walk?"  He asked the former Watcher, lighting the gas stove at the same time.  "How're you doing?  Really?"

"I've had better days."  Wesley told him hesitantly.

Angel grinned; setting a bottle into a pot of water that was beginning to boil on the stove.  "I know the feeling."  He turned to Wesley.  "I figured it out."  Angel moved over to a chair and started folding baby clothes.  "How I knew about Aubrey."  He elaborated.  "All that pain, that rage… the only way she could deal was to join Holtz, take her revenge."  He placed the shirt he was folding down and leaned forward, lightly clasping his hands together.  "You know how I knew that?"  He asked.

Wes sat down next to Angel.  "Because you would have done the same."  He said simply.

"It scares me.  You know?"  Angel said, starting to fold the clothes again.  "If anything like that ever happened to Connor, I don't know what I'd…"  Angel stared down at the laundry in his hands, lost for words.  "I love my son."

"Love can be a terrible thing."  Wesley told him, his mind flashing back to the prophecy he had just uncovered.  '_The Father shall kill the Son_'.

"I used to think that."  Angel said.  "I thought love was… something that swallowed you whole, ripped you up inside, but, you know, what I feel for Connor, even that fear… Wes, it's – it's not terrible.  It's beautiful."

Wesley looked at Angel, and then down at his hands.  He began to laugh quietly as the weight of the terror he had been carrying began to lift.  Angel could no more kill his own son than he could fly!  He looked up at Angel, grinning his head off.

Angel smiled back, mystified.  "What's so funny?"  He asked, getting up to check on the bottle.

"Life."  Wesley told him.  "Life is funny.  Listening to stupid people talking to hamburgers is funny.  Worrying about things that will never… It's all so incredibly funny and… and beautiful."

Angel smiled absently at Wesley as he dried off the bottle.  Maybe Wes had gone mad or something.  He was definitely spending too much time locked in the office with his books.

Suddenly, an earthquake hit.  Pots and pans began to fall out of the cupboards and Angel braced himself.

The lit stove toppled over and a huge column of flame shot out, throwing Angel across the room.  Despite this, he still managed to hang on to Connor's bottle.

A burning beam fell from the ceiling, cutting Connor and Angel off from Wesley.

Angel ran to Connor's crib, his child's safety paramount in his mind.  He gathered small baby up.

"Come on kid."  He told him as, with a mighty leap, he jumped over the beam, heading for the door.

Before he reached it's relative safety however, he noticed Wesley just standing there, staring into the flames.

"Wesley!"  He called.  "Get out!"

Wesley continued to stand there.  Angel grabbed a hold of him and threw him out into the hallway before hurrying after him.  Just in time as another chunk of ceiling came crashing down where they had been standing.

Wesley began to cough and pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the wall.

Connor was bawling his eyes out.

"It's okay."  Angel said to Connor, trying to soothe the screaming child. "It's okay.  It's alright."  Even so, he was stricken at how close he had come to losing his son.

"Earthquake.  Fire.  Blood."  Wesley mumbled to himself, but Angel, even with his supernatural hearing didn't hear him.  He was too busy trying to come to terms with how close Connor had just come to death.

"I thought we were gonna be trapped in there, huh?"  He said to Wesley, trying to vocalise his fears.  He looked down at the blanket Connor was wrapped in, partially soaked in blood from a cut on his forehead.  "At least I would have had something to snack on."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Still hyper-sensitive about the recent events in Sunnydale Mall, Willow had managed to convince Spiderman that it would be best if they dealt with the vampires stealthily, rather than charging into the room where the hostages were being held and annihilating all vamps on sight.

So far, they had managed to take out five of the vampires.  But they had no idea how many vampires there actually were and it looked as though they'd finally wised up that their people weren't coming back, because there were no more to be found roaming the corridors.

So, as Spiderman had just rightly pointed out, it looked as though the only option left to them was to storm the citadel.

But that didn't mean that Willow had to like it.

These city vampires were just a little too high-tech for her.  Whoever heard of a vampire carrying a piece?  Did Angel have to put up with this kind of thing?  What, were they ghetto vamps or something?

Willow and Spiderman reached the room that the vampires were keeping their hostages in.  Willow focused her mutant powers and the door vanished into thin air.

Straight away they were embroiled in action as about ten vampires attacked them.  

Remembering what had happened in Sunnydale, Willow was sure to make a point of stabbing them in the chest, instead of dissolving them as she had done before.  That way, when the vampires dusted, there was no way anyone could say she'd killed humans.

She glanced over at Spiderman to see how he was doing.

Peter sat on the ceiling, a fine collection of guns, and his camera, webbed next to him.  He dropped back down, grabbing a vampire by the neck as he fell, and pulling him backwards.  The vampire fell to the ground and Peter took advantage of his weakened state to stake him.  Another of the vampires roared and charged at him.  Peter casually sidestepped and staked him in the back.  He dusted.

Peter grinned.  He was getting the hang of this whole vampire thing.

Willow grinned.  Spiderman was doing just fine.  She staked another vamp.

"That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!"  She said triumphantly.  She looked around, curious to see if anyone else had noticed her achievement and was greeted by the perplexed stares of about twelve people.  Even the vampires had stopped trying to fight in order to look confused.

"It's an in-joke, okay?"  She said exasperatedly.

The confused expressions cleared up and fighting officially resumed.

Peter chuckled.  He was going to like this new girl.  He staked the last of the fighting vampires and turned around to see the leader holding a gun to a hostage's throat.

"Come one step closer and I'll blow her head off."  He warned.

"Now that would just be silly."  Peter told him.  "Whose skirts would you hide behind then?"  He asked.

Willow moved closer to Spiderman and concentrated.

The vampire's gun turned into pine.

"What the…?"  He said.  "How the f-"

"Simple."  Willow cut him off.  "On a subatomic level, molecules are constantly being created and destroyed.  It is possible to manipulate them so that you can make something disappear, appear or change into something else entirely.  Did you get all of that, or do you want me to write it down for you so you can look up the words?"

"What are you going to hide behind now?"  Spiderman asked.

The vampire leaned in closer to the woman's neck, his fangs delicately touching her throat.

Willow shook her head at him.

"Bad vampire."  She told him as his canines went the way of his gun.

The vampire whimpered and let go of the woman to feel his teeth.  The woman fled to the opposite side of the room and Spiderman promptly staked the vampire.

Willow turned to the costumed superhero.

"Nice working with you."  She said, holding out her hand.

Spiderman shook hands with her; the two of them left the room together and went their separate ways.

Willow retrieved her clothing, killing the vampire that they had left in the locker room by mistake, and changed back into her street clothes before crawling back through the sewer and finding Eddie.

Once found, Eddie took some convincing to allow her inside his cab, but he eventually gave in when Willow told him that she had seen Spiderman and wanted to join Eddie's fan club.

Peter was lost.  Again.  There was just something about the ventilation system in this building…

Next time he went out he was taking some sharp wooden objects.  Maybe a crucifix or five.  And some garlic.  And holy water.  Lots of holy water.  And a map of this ventilation system!


End file.
